THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


THAT   ROCK-GARDEN   OF  OURS 


Frontispiece 


SPRING    GENTIAN    and    GENTIANELLA. 


V 


THAT    ROCK-GARDEN 
OF  OURS 


BY 

F.    EDWARD    HULME 

F.L.S.,  F.S.A. 

AUTHOR  OF  "  FAMILIAR  WILD  FLOWERS,"  "  WAYSIDE  SKETCHES," 

"MYTHLAND,"   "WILD  FRUITS  OF  THE  COUNTRYSIDE," 

ETC. 


WITH  FIFTY  ILLUSTRATIONS   BY  THE  AUTHOR 


"  Long  worke  it  were 
Here  to  recount  the  endlesse  progeny 
Of  all  the  weeds  that  bud  and  blossom  there ; 
But  so  much  as  doth  need  must  needs  be  counted  here." 

SPENSER 


PHILADELPHIA 
GEORGE   W.   JACOBS  &   CO. 

PUBLISHERS 


(All  rights  reserved.) 


SB  A 
Hg 


PREFACE 


BUT  few  introductory  words  appear  to  be 
necessary.  The  present  book  is  the  out- 
come of  many  years  of  country  life.  When  this 
happy  period  in  the  fulness  of  time  came  to  an 
end,  and  was  exchanged  for  a  home  in  the  outskirts 
of  the  great  Metropolis  it  was  yet  our  happiness 
to  endeavour  to  gather  around  us  some  floral 
reminiscences  of  those  former  days,  to  welcome 
our  old  friends  of  the  countryside  in  our  new 
surroundings. 

This  rus  in  urbe  has  been  a  great  pleasure  to  us, 
and  we  would  desire  to  share  this  pleasure  with 
others,  if  by  any  words  of  commendation  of  ours  we 
can  so  far  interest  them  as  to  induce  them  to  give 
a  like  welcome  to  these  children  of  Nature. 

The  possession  of  valued  friendships  with  others 
of  like  tastes  has  also  enriched  our  floral  store, 
while  wanderings  beyond  our  own  shores  have 
brought  us  in  contact  with  much  of  botanical 
interest,  valued  alike  for  its  own  sake  and  for  the 
happy  memories  associated  with  it. 

This  is  really  the  whole  matter,  and,  to  those 
in  sympathy  with  it,  we  trust  a  sufficient  justification 
for  the  following  pages. 

F.  E.  H. 

5 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   I 

PAGE 

The  fascination  of  gardening — Our  Nature-corner — 
Broad  catholicity  of  taste  called  for — The  scouted 
"  primrose  by  the  river's  brim  " — The  great  charm 
of  association — The  preservation  of  our  native  Flora 
— Nature's  power  of  recuperation — The  aristocratic 
rock-garden,  and  the  rockery  of  the  artisan — The 
necessary  material — Whence  procured — A  clinkery 
— Nature's  rock-gardens — A  corkery — Judicious  and 
injudicious  building-up — Tree-roots — Approximation 
to  natural  conditions — Shade,  sunshine,  moisture, 
or  the  absence  of  it — Suitable  soils — The  heresy  of 
under-planting — What  to  plant — Continuous  varia- 
tion as  time  passes  —  The  freemasonry  linking 
together  kindred  spirits  .  .  .  .  13 

CHAPTER   II 

Spring  our  starting-point — Bartholomeus  on  the  influence 
of  Spring — Our  snowdrops — What  is  an  indigenous 
plant? — Fair  Maids  of  February — Colt's-foot — Rustic 
pharmacy  —  Medicinal  plants  —  The  "  Castel  of 
Helth"— The  "  Foure  Bookes  of  Husbandry"  — 
Necessity  in  olden  days  of  plant-knowledge — The 
common  butterbur,  or  pestilence-wort — The  fragrant 
butterbur — Uninvited  visitors  —  Wild  arum — Prim- 
rose-time— The  Beaconsfield  cult — Appreciation  of 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

the  poets  —  Mealy  primrose  —  Seedling  leaves — 
Germination  of  seeds — Vitality  of  seeds — Daffodils 
—Daffodil  culture — Hyacinths —  Buttercups  —  The 
lesser  celandine — Nature  study  in  our  schools  .  37 


CHAPTER   III 

Anemones,  or  wind-flowers — The  yellow  anemone — 
The  mountain  anemone  —  The  so-called  hepatica 
-  Lady's-smocks  —  The  monks  as  herbalists  — 
Plants  as  teachers  of  religion  —  Wood  sorrel — 
Solomon's-seal  —  Solomon  as  herbalist  —  Tusser's 
u  Fiue  Hundred  Pointes  of  Good  Husbandrie " — 
Lilies  of  the  valley — Cosmopolitan  plants — Our 
familiar  wildlings  introduced  into  Japan,  the  United 
States,  Australia,  &c.  —  Of  intention  or  inadver- 
tently —  Our  daisies  —  La  Belle  Marguerite  — 
Chaucer's  favourite  flower — The  virtues  of  may- 
dew — Ox-eyes — Names  suggestive  of  resemblance 
— The  alkanets  we  grow  .  .  .  .69 


CHAPTER   IV 

Museum  facilities  for  the  identification  of  plants — The 
Star  of  Bethlehem — Dame  d'onze  heures — The 
greater  and  lesser  periwinkles — Live  and  let  live — 
Sorcerer's  herb — The  "  Historic  of  Plants,  set  forth 
from  the  Almaigne  toong" — The  columbine,  or 
culverwort  —  Lion's-tooth —  The  "Paradisus"  of 
Parkinson — Red  valerian — The  fragrant  garlic— 
The  mariner's  defence  —  Our  rampant  strayberries 
—  The  u  Via  recta  "  of  Venner  —  Our  various 
geraniums— The  Doctrine  of  Signatures — Celandine 
— The  mystical  vervain  .  .  .  - 


CONTENTS  9 

CHAPTER  V 

PAGE 

Woodruff — La  Reine  des  bois — Ordinarily  very  little 
sentiment  in  the  old  plant-names — Goosegrass — 
Lavender  —  Strewing  herbs  —  Sweet  marjoram — 
The  "Dyetery  of  Helthe"  of  Boorde— Bistort- 
Meadow-rue  —  The  globe-flower  —  Goafs-beard — 
The  salsify — Nap-at-noon — The  speedwells — The 
sky-blue  flowers  of  the  borage  —  The  herb  of 
gladness — "  The  Art  of  Longevity  " — Agrimony — 
Philanthropes — The  bindweed  of  our  hedges — 
Sea  convolvulus  —  The  much-encroaching  yet 
welcome  little  field  convolvulus  —  The  yet  more 
encroaching  but  less  welcome  buckwheat — The 
"Theatrum  Botanicum"  of  Parkinson  .  .113 

CHAPTER  VI 

The  unexpected  springing-up  of  plants  in  most  unlikely 
places  —  The  botany  of  a  London  stable-yard — 
Distributing  agency  of  birds — The  Adonis-flower — 
Our  various  violets — The  sweet  violet  as  a  medicinal 
herb — A  flower  beloved  of  the  poets — Miss  North's 
"  Recollections  of  a  Happy  Life  " — Broom — The 
fragrant  wallflower — The  erratic  spelling  of  our 
forefathers — Stone-crop — Blake's  u  Compleat  Gar- 
dener's Practice  "  —  Snapdragons  —  Toadflaxes  — 
Curious  competition  statistics — Saxifrages — London- 
pride — Moisture-loving  plants — Grass  of  Parnassus 
— Sarracenia — Moneywort,  the  reputed  healer  of 
one  hundred  diseases — Various  un-grasslike  grasses 
of  popular  nomenclature — Loosestrife — The  cinque- 
foil  and  its  allies — Ground  ivy  .  .  .141 

CHAPTER 

Blackberry — Poole's  "  English  Parnassus  " — The  stone- 
bramble — Dewberries — Hop  — Tremendous  vigour 


10  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

of  growth — Hedge-reared  asparagus — Royal  com- 
mand to  abstain  from  using  hops  in  brewing  beer — 
The  two  bryonies — A  u  Lynyment  to  beautifie  the 
Chynne"— The  "Toilet  of  Flora"— The  fragrant 
honeysuckle  —  Ivy  —  Destructiveness  to  ancient 
buildings — Evening  primrose — Parkinson's  u  Garden 
of  Pleasant  Flowers" — Thorn-apple — The  henbane 
— Lupton's  "  Thousand  Notable  Things  " — A  salve  to 
render  one  elf-proof  and  goblin-free — Green  helle- 
bore— The  purple  and  yellow-flowered  monk's-hoods 
— Necessity  of  caution  in  dealing  with  poisonous 
plants  ......  .'175 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  dwale,  or  deadly  nightshade  —  The  mission  of 
Atropos— Chicory— The  "  Historia  Mundi  "  of  Pliny 
— Arab  lore — Lady's-mantle  —  The  tuberous  com- 
f rey — Purple  comf rey  —  The  yellow  iris  —  Corn- 
flower— The  gentians  —  Edelweiss  —  Chalet-made 
specimens —  Soldanella  —  Grim  the  Collier  —  The 
value  of  scientific  nomenclature — The  two  Claytonias 
— a  Botanical  Magazine  "  of  Curtis — Crimson  rest- 
harrow — The  various  bell-flowers — The  not-to-be- 
improved-on  harebell — Our  pinks — Maiden  pink — 
Cheddar  pink — Ruskin's  Society  of  St.  George — 
Glacier  pink  —  Cerastium  gibraltaicum  —  Fool's 
parsley  —  How  distinguished  from  the  gardener's 
parsley  .......  205 


CHAPTER   IX 

Hemlock — Its  medicinal  service — Mediaeval  writers  great 
plagiarists — Alexanders — Coles'  "Art  of  Simpling"— 
Goutweed — Herb  Gerard — Plant-names  based  on 


CONTENTS  11 

'PAGE 

supposed  medical  virtues — Herb  Christopher — Rose- 
root — Foxglove — Plant-names  based  on  colour — The 
mullein— House-leek— The  Flora  of  an  old  thatched 
roof — Marsh  orchis — Wild  tulip  —  The  musk 
mallow  and  field  mallow— Milfoil,  or  yarrow— 
Sneezewort — Other  plants  of  the  genus— Tansy — 
Tansy  pudding  —  Cogan's  "  Haven  of  Health"— 
Wormwood — Honesty  —  The  yellow  and  white 
melilots — Cockle— The  corn  marigold — Feverfew — 
The  red  and  white  campions— Flax-leaved  goldi- 
locks—Flax .  •  -241 


CHAPTER  X 

The  chequered  fritillary,  or  snake's-head  —  Orange 
balsam — Yellow  balsam — Forget-me-not — Mediaeval 
dread  of  the  scorpion — Ground  pine — Rosemary — 
The  flower  of  remembrance — Rue — Fennel — The 
serpent's  medicine  —  Ragwort  —  Hare's-ear  —  The 
pearly  cudweed — Milk  thistle  —  Apple — Mediaeval 
pomatum — Sea  buckthorn — Buck's-horn  plantain — 
Echmacea  —  Globularia  —  A  fernless  rock-garden 
unthinkable  —  Brake  —  Male  fern  —  The  gift  of 
invisibility — Lady  fern — Hart's- tongue-— Royal  fern 
— Adder's-tongue — Polypody  —  Hard  fern  —  Scale 
fern — Black  spleenwort — Fungi — Autumn  foliage  .  279 


INDEX  ......  315 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


(Plates  I.,  VII.,  XIII.,  XXL,  XXIV.,  XXIX.,  XXXVI.,  XLV.,  are  in  colour.) 


PLATE  FACE  PAGE 

I.  GENTIANA    VERNA    AND    GEN- 

TIANELLA      .        .       Frontispiece 

II.  DOUBLE       ANEMONE       AND 

LADY'S-SMOCK       .        .        .13 

III.  YELLOW      ANEMONE      AND 
PRIMROSE     .        .        .        .20 

IV.  ALPINE  ANEMONE  AND  SMALL 
CELANDINE  .        .       .        .26 

V.  SAXIFRAGA    ELIZABETHS,*, 

ANEMONE    HEPATICA,    AND 
HACQUETIA    EPIPACTIS        .    32 

VI.  EVERGREEN  ALKANET  .     .   38 

VII.  COLUMBINE   AND   LESSER 
SNAPDRAGON     .     .     -44 

vin.  DUSKY  CRANE'S-BILL  .        .    50 

IX.  SPIR^A     TOMENTOSA,     GERA- 
NIUM NODOSUM,  AND  SEDUM 
RUPESTRE        .  .  .  -56 

X.  BLOOD   GERANIUM    AND     PEN- 

CILLED  GERANIUM  .  .      62 

XI.  SNAPDRAGON  AND  CELANDINE      69 

XII.  SPIKED   SPEEDWELL        .  .      74 

XIII.  SALSIFY  AND   OX-EYE  .      80 

XIV.  PINK  BINDWEED  .  .      86 

XV.  INULA   MONTANA  .  .  .92 

XV.  INULA   HELENIUM  .  .      92 

XVI.  WALL-FLOWER  .  .      98 

XVII.  YELLOW  LOOSESTRIFE  .    104 

XVIII.  GOLDEN     SAXIFRAGE    AND 
SEA  PLANTAIN        .  .  .    IIO 

XIX.  BLACKBERRY          .  .  .    Il6 

XX.  DEWBERRY     .  .  .  .122 

xxi.  MONK'S-HOOD      .        .        .128 

XXII.  TUBEROUS     COMFREY     AND 
PURPLE  COMFREY  .  .134 

XXIII.  YELLOW   IRIS    AND    CORN- 
FLOWER .  .  .  .141 

XXIV.  FRAGRANT  BUTTERBUR  AND 
DAFFODIL       ....    146 

XXV.  EDELWEISS  .  .  .152 

XXVI.  SOLDANELLA   AND    CYCLA- 
MEN  NARCISSUS     .  .  .    158 

XXVII.  CAMPANULA  PUSILLA,  BIS- 
TORT, AND  ONONISFRUTICOSA   164 

12 


PLATE  FACE  PAGE 

XXVIII.  STONE  -  BRAMBLE        AND 
CLAYTONIA   PERFOLIATA         .    I7O 

XXIX.  CLAYTONIA  SIBIRICA  .    176 

XXX.  CAMPANULA       PULLA      AND 
GERANIUM   ARGENTEUM          .    l82 

XXXI.  CAMPANULA    REINERI,   DI- 
ANTHUS  DELTOIDES,  RHODO- 
DENDRON  HIRSUTUM     .  .    188 

XXXII.  UPRIGHT  MEADOW  CROW- 
FOOT AND   CHEDDAR   PINK    .    194 

XXXIII.  CERASTIUM      GIBRALTAI- 
CUM     AND     DIANTHUS    NEG- 
LECTUS  ....    200 

XXXIV.  GOUTWEED        .  .  .    2O6 

XXXV.  ROSE-ROOT  AND  FOXGLOVE   212 

XXXVI.  MARSH  ORCHIS  AND  TULIP   2l8 

XXXVII.  FLAX -LEAVED        GOLDI- 
LOCKS        AND         PERENNIAL 
FLAX 224 

xxxvni.  HARE'S  -  EAR  AND 
PEARLY  CUDWEED  .  .  230 

XXXIX.  APPLE     ....  236 

XL.  SEA  BUCKTHORN  .        .        .  242 

XLI.  IBERIS  SEMPERVIVENS, 
ACHILLEA  RUPESTRIS  .  .  248 

XLII.  BUCK'S-HORN  PLANTAIN    .  254 

XLIII.  SAXIFRAGA  RHEI,  RANUN- 
CULUS AMPLEXICAULIS,  AND 
SAXIFRAGA  CYMBALARIA  .  260 

XLIV.  PRIMULA  FRONDOSA,  SAXI- 
FRAGA WALLACEI,  AND  S. 
TOMBEANENSIS  .  .  .  266 

XLV.    ECHMACEA   PURPUREA  .   272 

XLVI.  GLOBULARIA  CORDIFOL1A, 
RANUNCULUS  MONTANUS, 
AND  LYCHNIS  DIURNA  .  278 

XLVII.  HIERACIU;^  INTYBACEUM 

AND  HESPERIS  MATRONALIS  .  284 

XLVIII.  VIOLA  LUTEA  AND  CAM- 
PANULA RHOMBOIDALIS  .  290 

XLIX.  SENECIO  DORONICUM  AND 

SAXIFRAGA  AIZOIDES  .  .  296 

L.  ACHILLEA  TOMENTOSA  AND 

SENECIO  AURANTIACUS  .  3O2 


II. 


DOUBLE     ANEMONE    and     DOUBLE     LADY'S  SMOCK. 


To  face  fxifff  /j. 


That  Rock-Garden  of  Ours 


CHAPTER   I 

The  fascination  of  gardening — Our  Nature-corner — Broad 
catholicity  of  taste  called  for — The  scouted  "  primrose 
by  the  river's  brim  " — The  great  charm  of  association — 
The  preservation  of  our  native  Flora — Nature's  power 
of  recuperation — The  aristocratic  rock-garden,  and  the 
rockery  of  the  artisan — The  necessary  material — Whence 
procured — A  clinkery — Nature's  rock-gardens — A  corkery 
— Judicious  and  injudicious  building-up — Tree-roots — 
Approximation  to  natural  conditions — Shade,  sunshine, 
moisture,  or  the  absence  of  it — Suitable  soils — The 
heresy  of  under-planting — What  to  plant — Continuous 
variation  as  time  passes — The  freemasonry  linking  to- 
gether kindred  spirits. 

IT  has  been  laid  down  by  no  mean  authority 
that  gardening  is  one  of  the  purest  of  earthly 
pleasures,  and  to  all  who  have  come  under  its 
fascination  the  statement  would  appear  a  very 
reasonable  one.  Our  gardening  may  take  the 
practical  form  of  cultivating  long  rows  of  succulent 
lettuce,  crisp  celery,  or  such  wealth  of  tender  and 

13 


14  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

luscious  peas  as  no  mere  dealing  with  the  local 
greengrocer,  before  we  had  tasted  the  delights  of  a 
garden  of  our  own,  could  at  all  have  prepared  us 
for;  or  we  may  have  borders  ablaze  in  glowing 
floral  splendour ;  or,  by  patient  persistence,  such 
roses  and  chrysanthemums  as  once  seemed  to  us 
but  an  ideal,  a  dream  nowhere  to  be  found  on  earth 
outside  the  wonder-compelling  illustrations  of  the 
florist's  catalogue. 

When,  however,  we  have  reaped  the  reward  of 
our  labour  in  these  well-ordered  lines  of  acceptable 
produce  for  bodily  needs,  and  when  the  aesthetic 
sense  within  us  has  been  captivated  by  the  rich 
fragrance,  the  magnificent  colours  of  the  treasures 
of  our  parterre,  there  remains  even  yet  to  us  an 
added  charm  in  the  return  to  the  sweet  simplicity 
of  nature,  a  corner  somewhere  where  the  delicate 
primroses  may  cluster  and  the  ferns  of  the  hedge- 
row unfold  their  spreading  fronds  amidst  such 
resemblance  to  natural  conditions  as  we  can  com- 
pass. Some  would  tell  us  that  such  are  but  weeds, 
unworthy  of  a  place  in  any  well-ordered  garden, 
while  other  some,  as  narrow-minded  as  these,  would 
seek  to  persuade  us  that  there  is  an  ineffable  charm 
in  these  wildlings  that  the  results  of  the  skill  of  the 
horticulturist  cannot  yield  ;  that  the  wild  strawberry 
of  the  woodlands  has  a  flavour  that  no  purchase  in 
Covent  Garden  can  rival  ;  that  the  wild  rose  of  the 
country  lane  has  a  beauty  and  a  fragrance  that  no 


A  BROAD  CATHOLICITY  15 

product  of  the  florist  can  touch.  While,  however, 
there  is  abundant  cause  for  appreciation,  there  is 
absolutely  no  call  whatever  for  depreciation.  Happy 
he,  or  she,  who  in  broad  catholicity  can  welcome  all. 

We  ourselves  look  back  with  thankful  pleasure 
to,  we  will  say  in  round  numbers,  half  a  century  of 
this  enjoyment.  We  recall  such  gatherings  from 
the  kitchen  garden  as  might  almost  tempt  even  a 
tiger  to  essay  vegetarianism ;  we  see  again  our 
noble  rose  arches  bordering  the  lawn  of  living 
verdure,  and  the  stately  walk  where  some  hundred 
white  lily  stems  fringed  the  verdant  alley  and  made 
for  it  a  glorious  fence  of  snow-white  blossoming. 
Yet  pictures  as  enjoyable  rise  before  us  as  we  recall 
our  wild  garden,  the  rock-work  silvered  with  sheets 
of  white  saxifrage,  aglow  with  the  golden  festoons 
of  the  moneywort,  crimson  in  the  mantling  of  the 
autumn  foliage  of  the  crane's-bills  ;  always  changing, 
always  charming. 

It  has  been  said  by  pessimists  that  things  too 
often  are  not  what  they  seem,  but  we  would  venture 
to  say  that  in  many  cases  they,  practically,  are  what 
they  seem — that,  and  that  only.  The  uninteresting 
personage  who  was  introduced  to  us  by  one  of  our 
poets — though  he  may  be  encountered  commonly 
enough  in  plain  prose  too — who  was  so  shockingly 
indifferent  to  the  charms  of  the  primrose  that  gazed 
up  at  him  from  the  river's  brim,  would  naturally  care 
but  little  for  such  a  rock-garden  as  we  advocate. 


16  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

Boeotia  and  Philistia  know  it  not.  But  to  those 
attuned  the  commonest  weed  is  full  of  interest ; 
science  finds  in  it  a  wondrous  organisation  in  its 
adaptation  to  environment ;  art  sees  in  it  beauty  of 
form  and  of  colour ;  legends,  mayhap,  enshrine  it  ; 
while  associations,  historical  or  personal,  may  give 
it  an  added  value.  These  are  not  things  that  one 
merely  ticks  off  on  a  florist's  list ;  each  has  a  pleasant 
history  attached  to  it,  and  recalls  bygone  days  of 
sunshine,  or  possibly  reminds  us  of  that  valued  com- 
panionship that  is  now  for  ever  lost  to  us.  Thus 
our  noble  plant  of  yellow  iris  is  not  only  a  delightful 
thing  in  itself,  but  recalls  to  our  mind  many  an 
enjoyable  ramble  by  the  silvery  Kennett  and  our 
old  home  on  its  banks  ;  our  grey  tufts  of  thrift,  or 
sea-pink,  that  will  in  due  course  burst  forth  into 
heads  of  crimson  blossom,  are  not  only  a  joy  in 
themselves  but  a  sunny  memory  of  the  grand  cliffs, 
and  the  widespread  blue  of  sea  and  sky,  and  all 
that  went  to  make  the  day  we  brought  them  away 
one  that  yet  lives  pleasantly  in  our  memory.  Hence 
our  plants  recall  no  less  enjoyable  rambles  over 
breezy  commons,  down  verdant  lanes  with  their 
hedge-banks  of  ground  ivy,  violet,  and  strawberry, 
through  the  woodland  copses  in  search  of  the  golden 
daffodils,  or  amidst  the  far-stretching  purple  haze  of 
hyacinths  in  the  forest  glades.  The  enthusiast  who 
takes  the  train  a  few  miles  out  into  the  country  and 
arms  himself  with  a  trowel,  an  old  biscuit-box,  or 


UPROOTING  OF  PLANTS  17 

a  bag  of  reasonable  size,  will  scarcely  fail  to  find 
something  or  other  that  he  will  be  glad  to  transfer 
from  its  country  surroundings  to  their  counterfeit 
presentment,  and,  once  there,  if  he  be  successful  in 
its  cultivation,  it  remains  a  pleasant  record. 

It  may  be  here  brought  against  us  that  this 
filching  from  the  general  store  that  Nature  provides 
for  the  delectation  of  all,  for  the  gratification  of  one, 
is  unjustifiable,  and  we  have  heard  people  gravely 
protest  against  such  a  state  of  things  as  children 
being  allowed  to  gather  a  bunch  of  wild  flowers. 
It  is  in  such  matters  well  to  clear  our  minds  of  cant. 
We  venture  to  claim  that  we  stand  behind  no  one  in 
our  desire  to  see  our  flora  and  fauna  preserved,  but 
there  is  a  medium  in  all  things,  and  while  the  up- 
rooting of  rare  plants  is  an  evil  to  be  vigorously 
protested  against,  we  feel  absolutely  no  sense  of 
wrong-doing  to  our  neighbour  when,  to  take  a  con- 
crete case,  we  bear  away  from  some  desolate  salt- 
marsh  one  plant  of  thrift  from  the  hundreds  that 
surround  it,  or  one  root  of  red  valerian  from  the 
hundreds  that  spring  forth  in  profusion  from  the 
cliff-crannies.  Nature  has  great  power  of  recupera- 
tion, and  even  such  a  loss  as  one  per  cent,  not  on 
the  total  output  of  the  country  but  in  one  small 
area,  leaves  no  permanent  void,  no  lasting  scar. 

The  term  rock-garden  is  a  very  comprehensive 
one,  and  covers  everything  from  the  lordly 
pleasaunce  planted  with  choice  Alpines  and  the 

2 


18  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

floral  treasures  of  some  palatial  domain,  to  the 
lowly  dirt-heap,  duly  embellished  with  an  odd 
whelk-shell  or  two,  a  statuette,  headless,  of  the  little 
kneeling  Samuel,  a  piece  of  broken  blue  and  white 
plate,  and  a  few  brick-ends  in  some  stifling  back- 
yard in  the  midst  of  the  town ;  which,  poor  and 
vulgar  as  it  is,  is  nevertheless  the  touching  delight 
of  some  hard  toiler  in  office  or  factory,  who  sees  in 
it  and  its  soot-laden  London-pride  or  musk  sweet 
far-off  suggestion  of  the  meadows  he  played  in  as 
a  boy,  before  he  had  found  out  that  the  city  that 
his  imagination  paved  with  shining  gold  has 
no  earthly  realisation.1  Somewhere  within  these 
extremes  is  the  rock-garden  that  most  of  our 
readers,  if  they  so  will,  may  fairly  hope  to  compass. 
The  first  consideration,  naturally,  in  the  forma- 
tion of  a  rockery  is  the  getting  together  of  the 
necessary  raw  material.  This,  in  many  country 
districts,  is  no  great  difficulty,  as  almost  any 
geological  formation  will  yield  us  excellent  stuff 
for  our  purpose  ;  though  some  of  these  formations, 
as  the  sandstones,  limestones,  or  granites  are 

1  Cowper  brings  before  us,  with   admirable   touch,   the 
grotesque  pathos  of  the  position  : — 

"There  the  pitcher  stands, 
A  fragment,  and  the  spoutless  teapot  there  : 
Sad  witnesses  how  close-pent  man  regrets 
The  country  :  with  what  ardour  he  contrives 
A  peep  at  nature,  when  he  can  no  more." 


ACCUMULATING  THE  MATEEIALS         19 

naturally  to  be  preferred  to  chalk,  or  rock  of  a 
soft  and  friable  character  that  powders  up,  or  splits 
into  thin  plates  by  the  action  of  frost  or  other 
untoward  influence.  Quartz  is  not  a  desirable 
material,  as  it  is  somewhat  strong  and  assertive 
in  colour,  and  does  not  readily  tone  down,  so  that 
while  other  materials  weather  and  mellow,  our 
masses  of  quartz  preserve  for  a  long  time  a  dis- 
tressing appearance  of  newness,  and  a  disinclination 
to  blend  with  their  surroundings. 

Cartage  is  the  chief  expense,  stones  having  a 
way  of  being  so  very  heavy.  Great  care  must  be 
exercised  in  loading  up  and  unloading,  so  as  not  to 
needlessly  abrade  the  surfaces,  and  thus  rub  away 
the  charming  masses  of  pale  grey  or  gorgeous 
orange  lichens  that  clothe  them,  and  which,  if 
preserved,  at  once  save  the  rock-garden  from  the 
otherwise  bald  and  horribly  new  look  that  a 
recently  made  thing  of  the  kind  must  almost 
unavoidably  have. 

The  townsman,  if  he  has  no  country  friend  to 
hunt  up  material  for  him,  or  no  inclination  to  meet 
the  heavy  expense  of  its  transport  from  the  locality 
where  it  is  found  in  situ,  has  but  little  choice  before 
him.  He  must  either  laboriously  " convey"  suitable 
stones  that  he  may  find  on  waste  ground  (a  very 
long  process,  and  one  sufficiently  tiresome,  being 
alike  destructive  to  one's  clothes,  and  arm-aching  to 
one's  muscles,  as  any  one  will  find  who  in  a  fit  of 


20  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

enthusiasm  conveys  home  for  some  two  miles  the 
noble  stone  that  he  has  rescued  from  the  bottom  of 
some  ditch  or  the  surface  of  some  suburban  road 
being  made  up),  or  else  he  must  put  himself  into 
the  hands  of  some  contractor  or  general  dealer.  A 
singular  property  of  these  casual  blocks  that  we 
may  encounter  and  appropriate  is  the  startling  way 
they  appear  to  increase  in  bulk  and  weight.  When 
we  first  hustle  one  from  amongst  the  stinging 
nettles,  to  the  great  disgust  of  the  various  beetles, 
wood-lice,  centipedes,  and  other  small  creatures  that 
have  found  welcome  shelter  beneath  it,  it  can  be 
carried  quite  easily,  but  in  ten  minutes  its  weight 
has  apparently  nearly  doubled,  and  it  is  found  to  be 
liberally  possessed  of  uncomfortable  protuberances 
or  knife-edged  angularities  that  we  had  no  suspicion 
of  at  first.  Henceforth  its  bulk  increases  in  appalling 
ratio,  and  we  are  only  saved  from  throwing  it  down 
in  disgust  from  the  reflection  that  if  we  do  so  all 
the  Herculean  labour  we  have  thus  far  expended 
on  it  will  have  been  absolutely  wasted. 

From  time  to  time  we  may  see  a  notice 
intimating  that  Mr.  So-and-so,  purveyor  of  coals, 
coke,  slates,  gravel,  stone,  &c.,  may  be  dealt  with 
within  the  dreary  area  enclosed  by  his  rickety 
palings,  and  on  entering  we  find  in  some  corner 
the  very  material  we  are  in  need  of,  in  which  case 
he  is  ordinarily  willing  to  let  one  have  it  at  a  not 
too  inordinately  grasping  rate,  since  such  stones  as 


in. 


YELLOW    ANEMONE    and     PRIMROSE. 


To  face  t>agr  20. 


REPRODUCTION  OF  NATURE  21 

we  require  for  our  present  pursuit  are  of  little  other 
use.  An  enthusiastic  rockery-building  neighbour  of 
ours  has  lately  cleared  out  all  the  yards  for  a  long 
distance  round,  and  would  as  eagerly  run  to  earth 
a  pile  of  old  and  discarded  building  or  road 
material  as  others  would  rummage  an  old  book- 
stall for  black-letter  treatises  and  worm-eaten  folios, 
or  pursue  with  reckless  haste  the  fragrant  fox. 

We  would  sorrowfully  admit  that  something  of 
the  nature  of  a  rockery,  or  rather  brickery,  may  be 
sometimes  seen  compounded  of  old  brickbats,  lumps 
of  cement,  clinkers,  and  masses  of  fused  and  vitrified 
material  from  the  brickfield  ;  but  we  trust  our 
readers  will  "  not  leave  a  stone  unturned  "  to  avert 
such  a  lame  ending  of  their  early  hopes,  for  while 
we  cannot  quite  deny  that  a  well-planted  clinkery 
may  be  a  good  deal  better  than  nothing  at  all,  we 
feel  at  least  equally  strongly  that  it  must  be  looked 
upon  only  as  a  possibility  when  nothing  better  can 
be  got  together. 

One's  idea  must  be  to  reproduce  nature  as  far 
as  possible,  and  those  who  have  revelled  in  the 
glorious  natural  rock-gardens  of  Devonshire  and 
Switzerland  will  scarcely  need  to  be  reminded  that 
brickbats  formed  no  part  of  their  charm.  Uvedale 
Price,  writing  in  1796,  says:  "The  source  of  the 
superiority  of  good  landscape  gardening  lies  in  the 
artist's  removing  from  the  scene  of  his  operations 
whatever  is  hostile  to  its  effect,  or  unsuited  to  its 


22  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

character  :  and  by  adding  only  such  circumstances 
as  accord  with  the  general  expression  of  the  scene, 
awakening  emotions  more  full,  more  simple,  and 
more  harmonious."  What  applies  to  landscape 
gardening  as  a  whole  applies  no  less  to  the  limita- 
tion we  impose  on  ourselves,  and  it  will  be  found 
that  the  common  brickbat  fails  to  awaken  the  right 
sort  of  emotion,  nor  does  a  garnishing  of  broken 
plates  adequately  recall  the  grandeur  of  the 
sculptured  cliff,  the  loveliness  of  some  Alpine  dell, 
where  amidst  the  noble  masses  of  lichen-stained 
rock  nestle  the  saxifrages  and  gentians,  white  as  the 
eternal  snows,  blue  as  the  vault  of  heaven  o'er- 
head.  The  eye  and  the  mind,  incapable  of  taking 
in,  without  strain,  more  than  a  certain  amount  of 
sublimity,  call  for  a  rest,  and  even  amidst  the 
grandest  scenes  must  presently  call  "  Hold,  enough!" 
If  then,  turning  aside  awhile  from  the  glorious 
prospect  of  glacier  or  snowfield,  we  contemplate  our 
immediate  surroundings,  the  wild  strawberry,  the 
pure  white  Alpine  crowfoot  springing  amidst  the 
grass  around  us,  the  spleenwort  amidst  the  crannies 
of  the  rock,  we  not  only  realise  that  at  our  feet  is 
beauty  no  less  worthy  of  our  regard,  but  we  give 
the  eye  and  the  mind  the  refreshment  that  they  need. 

"  If  we  could  open  and  intend  our  eye, 
We  all,  like  Moses,  should  espy, 
E'en  in  a  bush,  the  radiant  Deity.1 


Cowley,  "  The  Garden," 


FORMALITY  FATAL  23 

One  may  often  find  the  rugged  bark  of  the  cork- 
tree used  not  ineffectively,  in  the  greenhouse  and 
elsewhere,  but  it  would  not  long  stand  outdoor 
service,  and  is  therefore,  in  any  case,  unsuited  to 
our  present  need,  even  if  we  could  by  closing  our 
eyes  very  much,  and  indulging  in  any  amount  of 
make-believe,  come  round  to  the  idea  that  cork  and 
rock  were  practically  the  same  thing.  A  corkery 
may  do  very  well  for  those  who  can  do  no  better, 
but  to  those  who  have  ambitions  beyond  a  green- 
house shelf,  or  a  flower-box  on  the  window-sill, 
it  does  not  suffice. 

There  should  be  a  considerable  variation  in  the 
sizes  of  the  stones — anything  like  uniformity  of 
bulk  is  apt  to  give  a  feeling  of  formality  that 
is  destructive  of  the  picturesque.  The  stones,  too, 
should  not  be  too  rounded  in  character,  like  beach 
boulders,  but  should  possess  a  certain  quaint 
angularity  of  form,  the  latter  being  also  much  more 
useful  practically,  as  in  the  resulting  crevices  we 
may  plant  many  graceful  little  things,  like  the  ivy- 
leaved  toadflax,  that  could  find  no  home  on  the 
smooth  surface  of  an  ovoid  block.  In  most  things 
there  is  that  valuable  institution,  the  happy  medium, 
to  be  reckoned  with,  and  it  is  as  much  to  be  studied 
here  as  in  any  other  of  the  affairs  of  life ;  so  one 
must  not  rush  to  the  opposite  extreme,  eschewing 
boulders  and  landing  in  an  effect  suggestive  of  a 
cemetery,  where  smashed-up  hearthstones  seem 
to  have  supplied  the  raw  material. 


24  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

Having  got  our  material  together,  the  next  very 
important  step  is  to  make  a  wise  use  of  it.  The 
stones  must  not  look  as  though  they  had  merely 
been  shot  out  of  a  cart  and  left  there.  When 
Nature  makes  a  land-slip,  and  clothes  the  fallen 
matter,  as  Nature  only  can,  with  rich  tapestry  of 
bramble  or  fragrant  honeysuckle,  and  throws  her 
glorious  sunlight  over  all,  the  heart  is  dull  indeed 
and  the  eyes  dim  that  cannot  enter  appreciatively 
into  so  fair  a  scene  ;  but  the  attempt  to  reproduce 
the  impression  of  this  at  home  by  merely  emptying 
out  a  barrow-load  of  stones  is  predoomed  to  failure. 
The  bases  of  the  stones  should  all  be  sufficiently 
buried  in  the  earth  to  give  the  feeling  that  the 
masses  are  rising  from  it,  and  not  merely  lying 
on  the  surface.  If  our  stones  are  of  homogeneous 
character,  and  our  observation  of  nature  and  study 
of  geological  text-books  go  deep  enough — a  not 
very  exacting  requirement — a  suggestion  of  stratifi- 
cation is  a  welcome  feature. 

So  very  much  must  depend  upon  the  space 
and  material  available  that  it  is  impossible  to  lay 
down  any  general  rules,  but  we  may  just  say  that 
wherever  practicable  it  is  always  better  to  have 
one's  rock-work  curved  more  or  less,  or  angular,  on 
the  ground-line,  rather  than  straight.  As  such 
a  matter  once  established  is  not  an  easy  thing  to 
modify,  both  on  account  of  the  bulk  of  the  material, 
and  the  injury  done  in  moving  the  things  planted 


FOUNDATION-LAYING  25 

upon  it,  it  is  very  important  to  think  the  thing 
out  first,  and  then  act,  rather  than  to  reverse  the 
process,  and  thus  build  in  haste  and  repent  at 
leisure.  Such  work  must  have  both  the  semblance 
and  reality  of  permanence :  any  suggestion  of 
fragility  makes  the  whole  thing  ridiculous.  If  you 
dare  not,  having  reared  your  structure,  clamber 
freely  about  it,  for  fear  of  bringing  it  all  down,  your 
work  is  inadequate,  and  no  matter  how  delicately 
you  may  tread  as  you  pass  by  it,  and  speak  in  bated 
breath,  it  will  not  bear  the  test  of  time,  and  some 
day,  after  an  extra  shower  of  rain  or  a  more  than 
usually  strenuous  cat-fight,  the  whole  thing  will 
be  found  collapsed,  a  mere  ruin,  a  byword  and 
a  reproach. 

Picturesque  old  pieces  of  tree-roots  may  be  some- 
times advantageously  blended  with  the  rock-work. 
They  are  not  only  pleasing  in  themselves,  but  they 
form  a  welcome  home  for  some  kinds  of  ferns  and 
other  plants,  and  as  they  slowly  decay  away, 
give  valuable  nutriment  as  well.  No  part  of  the 
permanent  structure,  it  is  evident,  must  have  as  its 
foundation  or  support  a  tree-trunk  that  will  of 
necessity  presently  break  up. 

In  making  out  our  rock-garden  it  is  advisable 
to  commence  operations  by  setting  out  a  good 
foundation  row  of  stones  of  goodly  bulk  in  such 
variation  of  ground-line  as  commends  itself  to  us. 
The  back  may  then  be  filled  up  a  foot  or  so  with 


26  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

almost  anything,  if  it  be  necessary  to  economise 
material,  the  better  earth  being  saved  for  the  front 
and  upper  portions.  Where  such  thrift  is  not  called 
for,  it  is  needless  to  say  that  if  the  earth  be  of  the 
best  all  through  we  are  so  much  the  nearer  to  a 
success,  since  some  plants  have  roots  of  wonderfully 
penetrating  power.1  Dwellers  in  the  country,  who 
have  extensive  garden-ground,  an  orchard,  and 
perhaps  a  meadow  or  paddock,  can  scarcely  under- 
stand, with  such  a  wealth  of  soil  at  their  disposal, 
how  pinched  the  man  is  in  this  respect  who  has  but 
a  small  plot  of  ground  at  the  back  of  his  little  place 
in  Suburbia,  where  the  abstraction  of  enough 
earth  to  fill  a  flower-pot  leaves  a  permanent  void  in 
his  flower-border.  We  know  of  one  enthusiast, 
residing  within  a  shilling  return  ticket  from  the 
centre  of  the  metropolis,  who  based  his  rock-work 
on  a  fairly  solid  substratum  of  empty  pickle  bottles 
laid  on  their  sides,  one  or  two  pails  turned  upside- 
down,  and  a  goodly  garnishing  of  canisters,  with, 
of  course,  a  veneering  of  stones  to  suggest  some- 
thing at  least  of  "the  everlasting  hills."  This 
we  need  scarcely  say  was  not  an  ideal  basis,  though 
probably  the  foundations  of  the  house  itself  were 
not  much  better,  judging  by  the  queer  mass  of 

1  On  digging  up  carefully  some  plants  of  the  common 
mallow  that  were  encroaching  overmuch  on  their  neighbours 
we  find  the  roots  descending  into  the  ground  considerably 
over  a  yard  ! 


IV. 


ALPINE    ANEMONE    and    SMALL    CELANDINE. 


To  face  page  26 


THE  UP-BUILDING  27 

things — road  scrapings,  cabbage  stumps,  old  boots, 
sardine  tins — that  is  deposited  on  land  that  one  half- 
year  bears  an  intimation  that  rubbish  may  be  shot 
there,  and  the  next  half  carries  a  row  of  genteel 
villas.  The  rockery-builder  could  at  least  plead 
that  he  was  preserving  the  unities,  and  intimate  his 
belief  that  what  was  good  enough  to  rear  his 
children  on  should  suffice  for  the  up-bringing  of 
a  patch  of  ground  ivy,  the  practical  result  being 
that  the  youngsters  would  be  anaemic,  and  the 
vegetation  etiolated,  the  equivalent  botanically  to 
that  washed-out,  colourless  state  of  affairs. 

Having  laid  discreetly  our  foundation  series  of 
blocks,  we  may  now  proceed  to  add  our  second  tier 
of  stones,  and  again  carefully  back  these  with  earth, 
and  also  judiciously  fill  up  the  interstices  with  good 
mould.  The  stone  facing  and  the  earthen  backing 
should  grow  together.  If  a  mound  of  earth  be  first 
made,  and  then  the  stones  stuck  all  over  it,  as  we 
sometimes  see  bleached  almonds  projecting  boldly 
and  profusely  from  some  triumph  of  culinary  skill, 
the  effect  is  not  happy,  while  the  slope  that  the 
earth  naturally  takes  is  somewhat  too  gentle.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  the  building-up  of  the  stones 
alone  be  carried  too  far,  independently  of  a  backing 
of  earth,  the  intervals  between  the  blocks  never  get 
properly  filled  up  with  soil.  When  the  roots  of  a 
plant  penetrate  into  one  of  these  empty  spaces  they 
quickly  dry  up,  and  the  flower  withers  and  decays. 


28  OUR  EOCK-GARDEN 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  as  the  whole  thing 
consolidates  it  will  sink  considerably  ;  it  will  there- 
fore be  necessary  to  allow  a  good  margin  for  this 
in  our  estimate  of  the  task  before  us.  A  neighbour 
of  ours  has  the  usual  seven  or  eight  foot  wall  around 
his  garden,  but  his  rock-work  reaches  to  the  top  of 
this,  and  is  built  boldly  and  irregularly  forward  from 
this.  Instead,  then,  of  the  formal  brickwork,  all  that 
we  see — and  it  is  very  pleasant  to  see — are  the 
rocky  flower-  and  fern-clad  masses  of  rock,  the  trees 
of  the  adjoining  gardens,  and  the  sky,  forming  the 
background. 

The  stones  should  be  so  built  that  each  should 
recede  slightly  from  the  one  upon  which  it  rests. 
By  this  means  the  rains  and  dews  find  their  way 
into  the  interstices  and  keep  the  plants  sufficiently 
supplied  with  water  :  the  reverse  of  this,  a  mass  of 
overhanging  stone,  means  drought,  and  the  speedy 
death  of  any  unfortunate  plant  that  is  placed  in  so 
uncongenial  a  locality.  The  rock-work  should  not 
be  built  up  too  steeply,  in  wall-like  guise,  or  the 
rain  streams  off  it  with  undesirable  rapidity,  and  so 
the  upper  parts,  especially,  are  too  freely  drained  of 
their  necessary  moisture.  It  is  advisable  to  build 
it  in  terraces  rather  than  in  one  continuous  slope 
though  these  must  not  be  too  formal-looking  or  too 
obvious  in  their  repeating  lines. 

In  planting  care  must   be  taken   to   group   the 
plants  together,  as  far  as  may  be,  not  only  with  an 


NOTING  OF  NATURAL  CONDITIONS       29 

eye  to  their  effect,  but  also  as  to  the  relative 
amounts  of  moisture  they  can  stand.  One  is  then 
able  to  supplement  the  natural  downfall  on  a 
particular  set  of  plants  that  are  lovers  of  damp, 
without  at  the  same  time  deluging  those  to  which 
an  excess  of  moisture  would  be  prejudicial.  We 
cannot  successfully  grow  anything  whatever  except 
by  approximating  our  arrangements  as  nearly  as 
possible  to  its  natural  conditions,  and  reproducing, 
as  far  as  may  be,  its  habitat,  whether  it  be  a  plant 
like  the  heather,  rejoicing  in  the  open  sunlight ;  the 
herb-paris  sheltering  itself  amidst  other  vegetation  ; 
or  the  moneywort,  delighting  in  a  humid  situation. 
Questions  of  soil  are  no  less  important.  It  is  rather 
a  common  fallacy  to  suppose  that  because  the  silver- 
weed,  for  example,  grows  luxuriantly  under  the  hard 
conditions  of  the  dusty  roadside  it  will  prosper  ten 
times  better  if  we  transplant  it  into  what  we  con- 
sider soil  ten  times  as  good.  Under  such  conditions 
plants  either  ramble  so  grossly  as  to  lose  their  typical 
character,1  or,  more  frequently,  decline  to  grow  at 

1  A  brother  enthusiast  told  us  that  when  he  first  reared 
edelweiss  from  seed  the  result  was  a  great  disappointment 
to  him,  as  the  plants  grew  up  considerably  over  a  foot  high, 
flowering  but  little,  and  it  was  only  by  considerably  hardening 
the  conditions  that  he  was  able  to  get  anything  like  the 
typical  plant  that  had  charmed  him  on  the  mountain-side. 
We  recall  an  instance  again  where  a  lady,  desirous  of  growing 
a  hyacinth  particularly  well,  fed  it  so  liberally  with  some 
one's  wonderful  fertiliser,  that  it  threw  up  leaves  of  utterly 


30  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

all.  If  we  have  a  portion  of  our  garden  made  up 
of  light  sandy  soil,  there  our  heather  should  do 
well ;  if  we  have  another  portion  consisting  of 
stiffish  clay,  there  our  primroses  will  specially 
prosper.  While  we  must  admit  the  fact  that  we 
cannot  be  equally  successful  in  all  directions,  we 
may  at  least  approach  that  ideal  in  another  direction 
by  arranging  that  some  of  our  rock-garden  shall 
be  overshadowed  by  trees,  a  noble  mountain-ash 
richly  laden  in  Autumn  with  multitudinous  clusters 
of  scarlet  berries,  a  fairy  birch  that  in  Spring  is 
a  mass  of  graceful  pendulous  catkins,  fulfilling  this 
function  to  admiration  in  our  own  garden,  while 
other  parts  have  the  full  strength  of  the  sunshine 
upon  them. 

Many  persons  fall  into  the  grievous  error  of 
under-planting,  being  so  enamoured  of  their  stone- 
heap  that  they  cannot  bear  to  see  it  getting  grown 
over.  But  this  is  a  heresy ;  for,  beautiful  as  the 
stones  alone  may  be,  they  are  infinitely  more  beau- 
tiful when  peeping  out  from  amidst  the  wreathing 
over  of  rich  masses  of  foliage.  "  Beauty  unadorned  " 
is  not  "  adorned  the  most "  in  this  particular  case. 

What  the  rock-garden  should  be  planted  with  is  a 
very  wide  subject.  Ferns,  of  course,  cela  va  sans 

abnormal  length  and  bulk,  but  yielded  no  blossom  at  all.  The 
error  is  akin  to  that  of  the  patient  who,  when  ordered  to  take 
recurring  doses  of  a  teaspoonful  takes  two  teaspoonfuls 
instead,  so  as  to  get  better  as  fast  again. 


WHAT  TO  PLANT  31 

dire,  will  find  an  honoured  place,  and  it  is  also  very 
desirable  to  plant  ivy,  periwinkle,  and  some  few 
other  things  that  will  clothe  and  beautify,  even 
through  the  dreariest  days  of  winter.  The  ivies 
planted  will  advantageously  be  of  the  various  finer- 
leaved  varieties.  Such  essentially  garden  flowers 
as  pelargoniums  are  out  of  place  entirely,  as  the 
aim  is  to  reproduce  some  little  reminiscence  of  the 
charms  of  some  rocky  dell  or  mountain  slope.  A 
plant  in  a  rock-garden  does  not  thence  become  a 
rock-garden  plant.  Some  will  plant  with  Alpines  ; 
some  prefer  to  confine  their  attention  to  British 
species.  Some  will  spend  lavishly  in  stocking  their 
gardens ;  while  others,  and  the  wiser  we  think,  will 
only  nurture  such  as  they  have  themselves  collected, 
or  at  most  have  received  at  the  hands  of  friends,  so 
that  everything  carries  with  it  a  pleasant  fund  of 
association.  One  need  not  in  hobby-driving  think 
overmuch  of  the  curb.1  While  in  our  own  garden 
we  have  some  of  the  commonest  English  plants — 
weeds,  in  fact,  in  the  language  of  Philistia,  and 

1  We  once  overheard  two  disputants.  The  woman  had 
said  something  that  the  man  evidently  did  not  think  was 
right,  and  he,  with  merciless  logic,  brought  up  point  after 
point,  and  then  triumphantly  summed  up  with  "  So  how  do 
you  fit  that  in?"  "  Oh,"  she  merely  replied,  "I  don't  fit 
it  in ! "  What  more  could  be  said  ?  The  rock-gardenist 
may  claim  a  similar  licence,  and  decline  in  his  planting 
to  be  cooped  up  within  too  rigid  barriers  of  logic  or  any- 
thing else. 


OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

others  of  interest  to  us  from  their  rarity,  we  have 
welcomed  no  less  the  edelweiss  and  the  wolf's-bane, 
as  reminiscent  of  glorious  days  amongst  the  Alps, 
and  North  American  bog  and  other  plants  brought 
to  us  by  kindly  friends. 

One  of  the  great  charms  of  contact  with  living 
things  is  that  matters  are  continually  changing.  If 
we  visit  a  museum  the  stuffed  monkey  that  we  saw 
there  last  year  looks  much  the  same  to-day ;  the 
brick  from  Nineveh  has  undergone  no  change ;  but 
if  we  visit  Kew  Gardens  we  shall,  no  matter  how 
numerous  our  visits,  always  find  something  that  we 
had  never  seen  before.  This  is  no  less  true  of  half 
a  mile  of  country  lane.  Flowers  appear  and  dis- 
appear ;  the  ferns  that  a  fortnight  ago  were  tightly 
curled  up  have  to-day  their  full  development :  the 
bud  of  a  fortnight  since  has  not  only  fully  expanded 
in  the  meanwhile  into  blossom,  but  this  blossom 
itself  is  even  now  passing  onward  to  the  next  stage, 
and  showing  promise  of  its  fruiting.  And  so,  in 
like  manner,  in  our  gardens,  unless  they  be  but 
mere  rows  of  pelargoniums,  calceolarias,  and  the 
like,  it  would  not  be  possible  to  take  a  floral 
census  that  would  hold  good  for  more  than  a  few 
days. 

To-day,  May  the  i7th,  we  have  found  plenty  of 
primroses  still  throwing  up  their  pale  sulphur  stars 
amidst  the  crannies  of  our  rock-work,  while  in  more 
exposed  positions  the  wallflowers  are  in  full  bloom, 


V.. 


SAXIFRAGA    ELIZABETHE/E.    ANEMONE    HEPATICA,    and 
HACQUETIA    EPIPACTIS. 


To  face  f>nge  J2. 


RICH  VARIETY  OF  FLOWERS  33 

and  filling  the  air  with  their  fragrance.  The  globe- 
flowers  are  bearing  freely  their  golden  spheres,  and 
the  quaint  columbines  are  in  rich  variety.  In  a 
sheltered  corner  the  lilies  of  the  valley  are  unfolding 
their  delicate  pure  white  bells,  companioned  by  the 
long  lines  of  pendant  blossoms  of  the  Solomon's- 
seal.  The  London-pride  is  in  full  luxuriance,  and 
the  evergreen  alkanet  is  splendid  with  its  masses  of 
intense  blue  blossom,  while  beneath  the  shade  of  the 
rapidly  unfolding  ferns  the  silver  stars  of  the  wood- 
ruff give  us  bright  welcome.  The  Claytonia — Clay- 
tonia  sibirica — an  American  wildling  that  is  gradually 
establishing  itself  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  is  in 
profusion  with  its  multitudinous  pink  stars,  while 
the  yellow  anemone — the  A.  ranunculoides — so  sug- 
gestive in  flower  and  foliage  of  the  buttercup,  is 
passing  away.  The  herb  Robert  is  in  abundance 
in  the  chinks  and  crannies,  a  mass  of  graceful  foliage, 
from  which  rise  the  pink  stellate  flowers,  while 
alongside  we  see  the  golden  cruciform  blossoms 
and  richly  cut  foliage  of  the  celandine,  and  in  a  shel- 
tered corner  we  find  the  quaint  spathe  of  the  wild 
arum  unfolding  amidst  its  glossy  sagittate  leaves. 
The  bistort  stands  gracefully  erect ;  divers  saxifrages 
are  in  welcome  evidence  amidst  the  rock  masses, 
and  the  yellow  tuberous  comfrey  is  at  its  best,  while 
the  ox-eyes,  the  delicate  lady's-mantle,  the  boldly 
upspringing  meadow-crowfoot,  the  great  clumps  of 
red  valerian,  and  many  other  plants,  are  well  in  bud. 

3 


34  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

A  month  ago  daffodils,  hyacinths,  windflowers, 
were  to  the  fore,  and  the  brown  soil  was  lavishly 
starred  with  the  golden  blossoms  of  the  pile  wort,  while 
even  before  this  the  snowdrops  decked  the  ground, 
attended  by  the  yellow  disks  of  the  colt's-foot,  and 
the  rarer  fragrant  butterbur.  A  month  hence  the 
flowers  of  to-day  will  many  of  them  have  passed  away, 
though  by  no  means  all,  but  such  gaps  as  the  efflux 
of  time  may  make  in  this  will  be  speedily  filled  by 
their  successors,  and  so,  well-nigh  the  whole  year 
round,  our  rock-garden  yields  beauty  and  interest. 

Elsewhere  in  our  garden  we  can  grow  the  roses, 
the  gladioli,  and  other  floral  treasures  that  one 
would  naturally  expect  to  find  under  cultivation 
in  one's  borders ;  but  while  we  welcome  these, 
we  revel  yet  the  more  in  the  wild  corner  of  our 
garden,  since,  apart  from  the  simple  charm  of  these 
wildlings,  almost  every  plant  there  has,  as  we  have 
said,  its  history  and  associations.  Some  were  sent 
to  us  by  brother  enthusiasts,  friends  of  long  stand- 
ing;  some,  with  words  of  much  kindly  greeting 
from  those  who  have  only  known  us  from  the 
printed  page,  whom  we  have  never  seen  in  the 
flesh,  and  shall  probably  never  meet  in  fraternal 
hand-grip,  but  who  are  our  friends  nevertheless 
in  the  freemasonry  that  links  together  fellow- 
students  in  nature-lore.1  Others,  again,  recall  to 

1  One  of  those  kindly  friends,  who  had  previously  sent  us 
some  white  heather,  presently  wrote  again,  sending  us  a  plant 


THOSE  TO  WHOM  WE  APPEAL          35 

us  the  pleasant  days  of  their  acquisition ;  those 
most  enjoyable  rambles — alone  or  with  congenial 
companions — over  open  moorland,  in  the  woodland 
recesses,  by  the  banks  of  some  placid  stream,  any- 
where and  everywhere  a  delight.  Others  of  our 
plants  again,  commonplace  as  they  may  seem  to 
the  commonplace,  have  an  interest  from  their 
literary  and  legendary  associations,  from  their 
medicinal  value,  real  or  reputed,  from  their  fancied 
astrological  influence,  from  many  reasons  that,  if 
not  immediately  evident,  and  perhaps  the  better  for 
not  being  thus  conspicuous,  amply  repay  their  study. 
Should  the  unhappy  man  to  whom  we  have  already 
referred,  of  whom  it  is  recorded  that  he  really  saw  no 
special  interest  in  a  primrose,  or  any  one  akin  to  him, 
take  up  this  our  book  they  will  doubtless  promptly 
lay  it  down  again,  well  content  that  they  neither 
know  nor  seek  to  know  the  things  of  which  it  treats : 
but  to  others,  nature-lovers,  it  will,  we  trust,  appeal 
in  its  attempt  to  declare  and  set  forth  the  interest 
that  may  be  found  in  the  study  and  cultivation  of 
the  wildlings  that  in  profusion  spring  up  around  us, 
and  to  indicate  something  of  their  charm. 

— the  bog  pimpernel — for  identification,  as  she  and  her  friends 
could  not  decide  what  it  was.  To  this  appeal,  most  cour- 
teously worded,  we  never  replied ;  the  letter  we  received 
gave  only  the  name  of  the  residence,  no  town  being  added, 
while  the  post-mark  was  too  blurred  for  identification.  We 
trust  that  this  may  meet  her  eye,  so  that  we  may  at  last 
be  absolved  ! 


CHAPTER    II 

Spring  our  starting-point — Bartholomeus  on  the  influence 
of  Spring — Our  snowdrops — What  is  an  indigenous 
plant  ? — Fair  Maids  of  February — Colt's-foot  —  Rustic 
pharmacy— Medicinal  plants— The  "  Castel  of  Helth  " 
— The  u  Foure  Bookes  of  Husbandry" — Necessity  in 
olden  days  of  plant-knowledge — The  common  butter- 
bur,  or  pestilence- wort — The  fragrant  butterbur — 
Uninvited  visitors — Wild  arum —  Primrose-time — The 
Beaconsfield  cult — Appreciation  of  the  poets — Mealy 
primrose — Seedling  leaves — Germination  of  seeds — 
Vitality  of  seeds  —  Daffodils  —  Daffodil  culture  — 
Hyacinths — Buttercups — The  lesser  celandine — Nature 
study  in  our  schools. 

OUR  starting-point  may  well  be  from  the 
lengthening  days  of  Spring,  the  verdant 
season  associated  with  the  idea  of  renewed  life, 
though  on  a  moment's  reflection  we  see  clearly 
enough  that  Nature  has  throughout  the  long  wait- 
ing-time of  winter  been  but  apparently  dead,  and 
that  months  of  quiet,  steady  preparation  have  been 
necessary  to  bring  us  at  last  to  the  opening  bud,1 

1  "  Mighty  Flourra,  goddes  of  freshe  floures, 

Whiche  clothed  hast  the  soyle  in  lousty  grene, 
Made  buddes  springe  with  his  swete  shoures, 
By  influence  of  the  sonnes  so  sheene." 

LYDGATE. 

37 


38  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

the  unfolding  flower.  Even  the  dweller  in  the 
town  is  buoyantly  conscious  that  Spring  has  at  last 
arrived  :  even  square  miles  of  houses  cannot  wholly 
shut  out  the  welcome  knowledge.  Fires,  once  so 
welcome,  go  untended,  windows  are  thrown  widely 
open,  and  the  soot-laden  buds  of  the  town  park, 
or  suburban  garden,  burst  into  tender  green  and 
remind  us  that  not  so  very  far  away  after  all  the 
meadows  are  golden  with  countless  buttercups,  that 
the  lark  in  ecstasy  is  pealing  his  song  of  jubilant 
welcome. 

Spring  has  in  all  ages  evoked  the  encomiums  of 
the  poets,  and  it  would  be  needless  indeed  here 
to  repeat  their  glowing  utterances,  since  these  are 
accessible  readily  enough  to  most  of  us ;  besides, 
raptures  at  second  hand  are,  we  take  it,  of  no  great 
value  to  any  one.  Every  one  in  Spring  should 
be  his  own  poet,  feel  his  own  heart  stirred  within 
him.  The  following  passage,  however,  is,  we  feel, 
too  delightfully  quaint  to  keep  entirely  to  ourselves, 
and  is  considerably  less  accessible  than  Keats, 
Wordsworth,  and  such-like  modern  men.  The 
writer,  one  Bartholomeus,  built  up  an  old  black- 
letter  tome,  which  he  called  "  De  proprietatibus 
rerum"  and  this  book,  dealing  most  comprehen- 
sively with  the  properties  of  things,  was  issued  in 
the  year  1597.  It  will  be  readily  detected  that 
his  spelling  is  scarcely  such  as  would  pass  him 


VI. 


EVERGREEN    ALKANET. 


To  face 


BARTHOLOMEW  ON  SPRING  39 

into  the  army  or  civil  service  according  to  modern 
requirements  : — 

"  Spryngynge  tyme  is  betwene  hotte  and  colde, 
most  temperat  betwene  winter  and  somer,  meane  in 
qualyte  and  partyneth  with  eyther  of  them.  For 
then  blode  begynneth  to  multiply  in  bodyes  of 
beastes,  and  humours  that  were  bounde  and  made 
thicke  in  wynter  begynne  to  be  dissolved  by  heate 
of  Spryngynge  tyme.  For  heate  is  cause  effective, 
werkynge,  nouryshyng,  and  encreasyng,  and  the 
moysture  is  cause  materyall.  Spryngynge  tyme 
openeth  the  erthe  that  hath  bene  longe  closed  and 
bounde  with  colde,  and  bryngeth  forth  rotes  and 
bushes  that  were  hydde  in  therthe,  and  exciteth 
birdes  and  foules  to  cherterynge,  and  clotheth  and 
hyghteth  all  the  over  partye  of  the  erthe  with  a 
wonder  fairnesse.  In  Spryngynge  tyme  all  thynge 
semeth  gladde,  for  the  erth  wexeth  grene,  trees 
burgynne  and  spred,  medowes  bryng  forth  flowers, 
heven  shyneth,  and  all  thynge  that  semed  deed  in 
wynter  and  widdered  ben  renewed."  The  reader, 
however,  is  cautioned  that  in  this  "  Spryngynge 
tyme  water  is  unwholesome  to  drynke,  for  it  is  made 
thycke  with  vapours  that  ben  resolued,  also  it  is 
infect  with  frogges  and  other  wormes  that  than 
brede,  and  therfore  if  it  be  nedefull  to  drynke  water 
that  tyme  it  conseyleth  to  seeth  it  fyrst,  that  it  may 
be  clensed  and  purged  by  boyllynge." 

While  Spring  is  yet  little  more  than  a  pleasant 


40  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

anticipation  our  rock-garden  is  bright  in  sheltered 
positions  with  patches  of  the  snowdrop.  The  plant 
stands  its  ground  sturdily  enough  in  the  keenest 
weather  and  the  most  boisterous  gales,  frail-looking 
and  delicate  as  it  appears.  It  should  be  in  flower 
by  February,  and  when  once  planted  should  be  left 
undisturbed.  Some  would  tell  us  that  the  snowdrop 
is  not  really  one  of  our  native  flowers,  but  however 
that  may  be,  we  at  least  know  that  for  centuries  it 
has  been  springing  up  in  our  woods  and  shady 
pastures. 

The  question  as  to  what  is  and  what  is  not 
indigenous  is  a  very  difficult  one,  if  we  insist  on 
proof  and  pedigree.  Of  course  if  we  can  definitely 
show  that  a  certain  plant  was  introduced,  designedly 
or  accidentally,  by  the  Phoenician  merchants,  the 
Roman  legionaries,  or  any  one  else,  centuries  of 
residence  amongst  us,  and  the  happiest  adaptation 
to  English  conditions,  will  not  suffice  ;  it  must 
be  throughout  the  ages  considered  as  having  at 
most  been  granted  letters  of  naturalisation ;  but 
most  of  us  will  be  well  content  to  welcome  amongst 
us,  and  enrol  in  our  Flora,  such  a  plant.  If  we  come 
down  to  very  hard  fact,  nothing  we  presume  must 
be  held  really  indigenous  to  these  islands  unless  it 
can  be  demonstrated  that  it  was  already  flourishing 
here  while  Adam  and  Eve  were  yet  in  Eden.  If 
it  were  not  here  at  the  beginning  of  all  things 
it  came  from  somewhere  else.  This  sounds  un- 


SNOWDROP  GROWING  41 

commonly  like  a  truism,  but  it  is  the  essence  of 
the  matter. 

The  gardeners  have  taken  the  snowdrop  in  hand 
and  produced  various  modifications,  the  flowers  and 
foliage  being  in  some  of  these  of  much  greater  bulk; 
but,  after  all,  size  is  not  everything,  and  one  can 
turn  from  these  back  to  the  simple  yet  beautiful 
wildling  with  renewed  pleasure.  We  sometimes 
see  the  flowers,  too,  doubled  under  cultivation,  and 
thereby  the  delicacy  of  form  of  the  blossom  entirely 
lost. 

If  so  soon  as  the  plants  begin  to  reach  the  bud- 
ding stage  we  carefully  dig  them  up  and  bring  them 
indoors,  placing  the  bulbs  in  a  little  mound  of  earth 
in  the  centre  of  a  plate,  and  covering  our  mound 
over  with  the  moss  that  we  shall  find  in  the  wood, 
the  result  will  be  entirely  charming.  The  moss  is 
pleasant  in  itself  to  the  eye,  conceals  the  bare  earth, 
and  retains  moisture,  and  from  its  midst  for  a  long 
time  will  rise  a  group  of  these  beautiful  little  flowers. 
We  have  tried  planting  the  bulbs  freely  on  our  lawn, 
and  in  the  early  spring  the  effect  is  very  pleasing ; 
but  one  requires  sometimes  to  look  a  little  ahead  in 
divers  matters,  and  this  is  one  of  them.  After  the 
flowers  have  perished  the  leaves  greatly  develop ; 
if  we  cut  them  down  too  speedily  we  do  some  little 
injury  to  our  bulbs,  but  if  we  do  not  do  so  the  large 
tufts  of  rather  coarse  leaves  scattered  freely  over 
the  lawn  are  somewhat  of  a  disfigurement. 


42  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

In  Wales  our  plant  is  the  Clychau-r  baban.  So, 
at  least,  we  are  told  by  a  native  of  the  Principality, 
but  we  confess  that  the  word  scarcely  looks  Cymric 
enough,  one  conspicuously  weak  point  in  it  being 
that  from  its  fairly  reasonable  supply  of  vowels  we 
can  at  least  attempt  to  pronounce  it.  The  signi- 
ficance in  English  is  "  baby's  bells."  Our  English 
name,  the  snowdrop,  is  equally  poetic.1  One  of 
the  alternative  names  is  Fair  Maids  of  February. 
During  the  whole  mediaeval  period  the  Church 
taught  alike  by  eye  and  ear,  and  did  not  disdain  to 
press  even  the  wayside  weeds  into  her  service,  and 
to  associate  them  with  the  Virgin  Mary,  the  saints 
and  martyrs,  and  so  the  snowdrop  got  its  name  of 
Fair  Maids  of  February,2  since  its  delicate  blossom 
was  often  already  expanded  by  the  2nd  of  February, 
the  Feast  of  the  Purification.  It  may  at  first  strike 

1  A  large  class  of  popular  names,  in  England  and  abroad, 
arises  from  a  real  or  fancied  resemblance  between  the  flower 
and  some  other  object :  to  this  class  our  snowdrop  belongs. 
Other  good  descriptive  names  are  the  arrowhead  and  the  bee 
orchis.     The  bladder  campion  is  so  called  from  its  inflated 
seed-vessels,  the  ox-tongue  from  the  shape  and  roughness  of 
its  leaves,  the  mouse-ear  from  their  form  and  soft  hairiness. 
Hare's-ear,  crowfoot,  monk's-hood,  snake's-head,  shepherd's- 
purse,  are  only  a  few  of  the  many  examples  that  might  be 
cited. 

2  The   Virgin   Mother  is  commemorated  again  in    such 
names  as  Lady's-mantle,  Lady's-thistle,  Lady's-smock,  Lady's- 
bedstraw  ;  while  in  Germany  we  have  the  Frauenmantel,  the 
Mariendistal ;   in  France  the  Chardon-Marie,  the  gants  de 
notre  Dame,  and  many  others  of  like  import. 


THE  COLT'S-FOOT  43 

one  that  such  names  are  frivolous,  irreverent, 
superstitious  ;  but  while  we  in  these  latter  days  are 
not  supposed  to  need  such  incentives  to  faith,  we 
cannot  but  feel  that  the  intention  which  influenced 
such  titles  was  an  altogether  worthy  one. 

Amongst  the  earliest  blossoms  in  our  wild  garden 
will  be  found  the  golden  thread-like  flower-heads  of 
the  colt's-foot.  This  is  a  plant  that  thrives  best  on 
clayey  or  gravelly  soil,  and  it  may  often  be  seen  in 
profusion  in  the  early  Spring  starring  the  railway 
banks.  Like  the  butterbur,  and  some  few  other 
plants,  its  flowering  stems  are  developed  before  its 
foliage.  Where  it  has  once  taken  hold  it  increases 
freely,  so  that  it  will  be  well  to  plant  it  where  this 
spreading  habit  will  be  welcomed  rather  than  re- 
garded as  an  encroachment.  In  the  Spring  its 
masses  of  yellow  blossom  rising  from  the  bare 
ground  are  very  welcome,  while  scarcely  less  wel- 
come are,  later  on,  its  quaintly  angular  leaves,  that 
contrast  agreeably  with  the  surrounding  vegetation. 
Their  resemblance  to  the  foot,  or  hoof,  of  a  colt  is 
somewhat  remote. 

The  colt's-foot  was  one  of  the  plants  largely  used 
in  rustic  pharmacy.  Its  generic  name,  Tussilago, 
is  a  testimony  to  the  repute  in  which  it  has  for 
centuries  I  been  held,  being  derived  from  tussis,  a 

1  It  was  strongly  commended  by  Hippocrates,  who  men- 
tions two  hundred  and  forty  plants  as  being  of  remedial 
value.  He  was  born  at  Cos,  B.C.  459.  Theophrastus,  Dios- 


44  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

cough.  Roots,  flowers,  and  leaves  have  all  been 
held  in  repute,  but  the  latter  have  been  most  com- 
monly employed,  being  dried  when  fully  grown. 
Rubbed  to  a  coarse  powder  they  may  be  smoked  as 
a  remedy  for  cough  or  difficulty  of  breathing,  or 
a  decoction  of  them  in  the  fresh  state  may  be 
employed. 

Before  modern  research  placed  at  the  service  of 
the  physician  plants  of  healing  virtue  from  every 
quarter  of  the  globe,  our  forefathers  made  an 
immense  use  of  the  Flora  of  their  own  land.  In  any 
old  botanical  book  "the  vertues  "  of  the  plants  set 
forth  form  a  very  important  feature,  and  this  neces- 
sarily led  to  a  more  general  knowledge  of  our  com- 
mon plants  than  at  present  obtains.  In  some  cases, 
without  doubt,  plants  of  foreign  origin  are  possessed 
of  greater  potency,  and  have,  therefore,  rightly 
superseded  the  home-grown  article  ;  but  it  is  very 
possible  that  matters  have  gone  too  far  in  this 
direction,  and  that  many  of  our  native  plants  pos- 
sess a  healing  virtue  that  few  now  credit  them  with. 
"  Forasmuch  as  every  Countrey,"  Frugis  reminds  us 
in  his  "  Vade  Mecum,"  1651,  "is  not  furnished  with 
all  sorts  of  things  (God  having  so  disposed  thereof) 
that  some  should  abound  with  those  things  which 
others  stand  in  need  of,  the  omnipotent  Providence 
hath  taught  us  the  means  of  transporting  by  water 

corides,  and  other  very  early  writers,  all  unite  in  their 
testimony  of  the  healing  virtue  of  this  lowly  herb. 


VII. 


COLUMBINE    and     LESSER    SNAPDRAGON. 


To  face  page  44 


HOME-GROWN  REMEDIES  45 

from  one  Countrey  to  another,  with  small  loss, 
trouble,  and  charges,  so  that  one  Nation  may 
communicate  those  commodities  to  another  which 
the  Creator  hath  bestowed  upon  them  all,  each 
granting  mutual  help  to  the  other  by  this  meanes." 
Elyot,  writing  his  "  Castel  of  Helth "  in  1541, 
looks  back  even  then  to  the  good  old  days  when 
home-grown  remedies  sufficed  and  cabbage  was 
the  panacea  for  all  the  ills  of  humanity,  for  he  writes 
"  before  that  auarice  caused  marchauntes  to  fetche 
out  of  the  easte  and  southe  partes  of  the  world  the 
traffycke  of  spyce  and  sundry  drouges  to  content 
the  unsaciableness  of  wanton  appetites,  Coleworts 
for  the  vertues  supposed  to  be  in  them,  were  of 
suche  estimation  that  they  were  iudged  to  be  a 
sufficient  medicine  agaynste  all  diseases."  Conradus 
Herebachius,  in  his  "  Foure  Bookes  of  Husbandry, 
as  newely  Englished  by  Barnabe  Googe,"  goes  even 
farther  than  Elyot  in  his  denunciation  of  the  intro- 
duction of  foreign  drugs,  seeing  in  it  not  merely  the 
greed  of  the  merchantman,  but  the  dire  necessity  of 
the  druggist's  shop.  "Nature,"  he  writes,  "hath 
appoynted  remedyes  in  a  redynesse  for  al  diseases, 
but  the  craft  and  subteltie  of  man  for  gaine  hath 
devised  Apothecaries  Shoppes,  in  whiche  a  man's 
Lyfe  is  to  be  solde  and  bought,  where  they  fetche 
their  medicines  from  Hierusalem,  and  out  of  Turkic, 
whyle  in  ye  meane  time  euery  poore  man  hath  the 
ryght  remedyes  growing  in  his  Garden  :  for  yf  men 


46  OUE  ROCK-GARDEN 

would  make  theyr  Gardens  theyr  Physitions  the 
physicions  craft  wold  soone  decay." 

Whatever  we  may  think  of  the  value  of  the 
following  prescription,  which  we  extract  from  "  The 
Family  Dictionary  and  Household  Companion  "  of 
William  Salmon — a  book  published  in  1696 — it  at 
least  serves  to  illustrate  our  point,  that  our  fore- 
fathers possessed  a  more  extensive  knowledge  of 
our  common  plants,  or  were  at  all  events  credited 
with  it,  than  some  of  their  descendants.  How 
few  good  housewives  now  possess  the  necessary 
knowledge  to  accurately  make  up  the  following 
" Water  for  the  Plague"!  "Take  of  Celandine 
Rosemary,  Bawm,  Mugwort,  Pimpernel,  Scabius, 
Agrimony,  Bettony,  Angelica,  Pellitory,  Carduus, 
Marigold  leaves  and  flowers,  Borrage  leaves  and 
flowers,  Featherfew,  red  Sage,  Setwall,  Thyme,  and 
Tormentil,  of  each  a  good  handful,  with  a  few 
sprigs  of  Rue  and  Walnut  leaves."  These  numerous 
ingredients  were  all  to  be  well  bruised  and  then 
steeped  for  three  days  in  white  wine.  Ten  spoonsful 
of  this,  after  warming  it,  were  to  be  taken  at  a  time. 
If  this  brew  produced  nausea,  as  would  be  only  too 
probable,  the  abundant  consolation  was  that  "  it  is 
a  sign  it  has  taken  the  better  effect."  If  you  could 
take  it  it  was  a  very  good  thing,  but  if  not  then  it 
was  still  better. 

In  another  portion  of  our  garden  we  may  find 
the  flowers  of  the  butterbur.  These,  like  those  of 


THE  TWO  BUTTERBURS  47 

their  near  relative,  the  colt's-foot,  are  to  the  fore 
before  the  leaves  are  much,  or  at  all,  in  evidence. 
Their  pale  lilac  heads,  thrown  up  some  eight  inches 
or  so,  are  much  less  conspicuous  than  the  golden 
stars  of  the  colt's-foot,  but  they  have  a  quiet  charm 
of  their  own.  While  the  colt's-foot  thrives  best  in 
dry,  gravelly  soil,  the  butterbur  must  be  given  a 
damp  situation.  One  can  dig  up  the  roots  by  the 
sides  of  most  streams,  but  we  must  scarcely  go  in 
for  it  if  we  are  pressed  for  room,  as  the  real  beauty 
of  the  plant  is  seen  in  the  noble  leaves  that  are 
thrown  up  later,  and  which  require  plenty  of  space 
to  do  them  justice. 

Parkinson,  we  see,  says  of  them  that  "  when  they 
are  full  growne  they  are  very  large  and  broad,  that 
they  may  very  well  serve  to  cover  the  whole  body, 
or  at  the  least  the  head,  like  an  Umbrella  from  Sunne 
and  Raine."  An  old  name  for  the  plant  was  the 
pestilence- wort,  for  "  the  rootes  hereof  are  by  long 
experience  found  very  available  against  the  plague 
and  pestilentiall  fevers."  A  decoction,  too,  of  the 
roots  in  wine  is  "  singular  good  for  those  that  wheeze 
much."  In  Plate  I. — our  frontispiece — we  have 
an  illustration  of  the  fragrant  butterbur — a  much  less 
common  plant.  It  is  a  native  of  Italy  and  Southern 
Europe  generally,  but  sometimes  establishes  itself 
in  England  as  an  escape  from  the  garden,  and  is  in 
some  districts  naturalised.  Phillips,  in  his  "  Flora 
Historica,"  written  in  1524,  speaks  of  it  as  "  planted 


48  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

in  pots  for  the  purpose  of  perfuming  our  winter 
apartments,  and  thus  the  plant,  which  so  short  a 
time  back  could  not  by  all  its  fragrant  charms 
obtain  a  corner  in  a  cottage  garden,  now  fills  a 
situation  in  the  proud  saloon,  to  the  admiration  of 
all  the  crowd  that  usually  attend  the  decorated 
apartments  of  gay  routs."  That  fashion,  we  imagine, 
has  long  passed  away  ;  but  the  delicate  flowers  and 
fragrant  odour  of  the  plant  make  it  a  very  welcome 
member  of  our  floral  commonwealth,  and  especially 
as  it  is  in  blosom  quite  early  in  the  year.  The  leaf 
figured  is  the  size  of  the  foliage  when  the  plant  is 
flowering ;  later  on  the  leaves  are  considerably 
larger.  It  flowers  very  freely  with  us,  and  can  be 
very  readily  multiplied  by  dividing  up  the  roots, 
so  that  it  is  a  very  convenient  plant  to  exchange 
with  a  botanical  brother  for  something  that  he  in 
turn  can  spare,  or,  of  course,  to  enrich  his  store 
without  thought  of  reward  beyond  mutual  goodwill. 
It  is  sometimes  called  the  winter  heliotrope. 

One  curious  feature  in  starting  a  wild  garden  is 
that  one  comes  into  possession  of  so  much  more 
than  one  anticipates,  through  the  accidental  intro- 
duction of  seeds,  fibres  of  roots,  and  the  like,  with 
the  plants  that  we  really  do  strive  to  introduce. 
Only  this  last  year  we  had  springing  up  in  our 
garden  the  wild  arum,  purple  hyacinth,  anemone, 
and  several  other  plants  that  were  not  brought  there 
by  any  intention  of  ours,  welcome  as  they  were. 


THE  WILD  ARUM  49 

The  wild  arum,  or  cuckoo-pint,  should  certainly 
find  a  shady  corner  prepared  for  it,  as  it  is  a  very 
quaint  and  picturesque  thing.  Its  arum-like  spathe 
may  be  found  nestling  in  early  Spring  in  the  under- 
growth of  the  hedgerow.  The  leaves  appear  later  ; 
they  are  arrow-headed  in  shape  and  of  a  very  glossy 
surface,  and  after  these  in  turn  have  gone,  we  get 
a  stem  some  five  inches  long  bearing  a  cluster  of 
scarlet  berries.  We  have  thus  three  very  marked 
states,  and  all  of  them  attractive.  Every  part  of 
the  plant  is  acrid  and  pungent,  so  that  the  mere 
application  of  the  leaves  to  a  delicate  skin  will 
inflame  and  irritate  it.  The  roots  are  still  more 
powerfully  irritant,  producing  a  burning  in  the 
throat  that  lasts  for  some  hours.  It  is  curious  that 
this  pungency  is  almost  lost  when  the  roots  are 
dried,  and  deleterious  as  they  are  in  their  raw  state, 
all  their  evil  qualities  are  entirely  dissipated  by  either 
baking  or  boiling  them.  The  roots  were  at  one 
time  an  article  of  food  under  the  name  of  Portland 
arrowroot ;  but  now  that  half  a  dozen  foreign  sub- 
stitutes, and  most  of  them  probably  considerably 
more  nourishing,  can  be  procured  with  the  minimum 
of  trouble,  only  very  conservative  folk  would  collect 
and  prepare  the  home-grown  root  in  preference. 
A  distilled  water  was  formerly  prepared  from  the 
plant,  that  was  for  a  while  held  in  high  repute  as  a 
cosmetic.  In  its  fresh  state  it  is  a  plant  to  be 
treated  with  considerable  caution.  Many  cases  are 

4 


50  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

on  record  of  its  deleterious  effects  ;  children,  for 
instance,  have  more  than  once  been  killed  from 
eating  its  leaves.  The  noble  ruffs  and  petticoats 
of  our  ancestors  owed  their  stiffening  to  the  starch 
made  from  this  plant,  though  it  was,  as  Gerard 
reminds  us,  "most  hurtful  for  the  hands  of  the 
laundress  that  hath  the  handling  of  it,  for  it 
choppeth,  blistereth,  and  maketh  the  hands  rough 
and  rugged,  and  withal  smarting."  Our  edition 
of  Gerard,  we  see,  is  dated  1633. 

A  rock-garden  in  which  no  primroses  expanded 
their  delicate-looking  blossoms  in  the  genial  Spring 
sunshine  is  a  well-nigh  unthinkable  state  of  things. 
So  keenly  did  we  feel  this  that  we  have  them  flower- 
ing in  profusion,  a  friend  sending  us  up  out  of 
Sussex,  from  his  woodlands  a  great  hamper  of 
roots,  which  we  promptly  planted  here,  there,  and 
everywhere,  in  every  available  nook  and  cranny. 
Beautiful  as  our  garden  is  at  various  times  of  the 
year,  it  is,  perhaps,  never  more  charming  than 
when  these  clustering  flowers  in  their  hundreds 
are  its  leading  feature.  Primroses  enjoy  a  strong 
and  clayey  soil,  and  under  lighter  conditions 
gradually  wither  out  As  a  feeling  has  frequently 
been  expressed  that  the  Beaconsfield  memorial  cult1 

1  LORD  BEACONSFIELD  AND  PRIMROSES. — Mr.  Arthur 
Vernon  sent  the  following  letter  to  the  South  Bucks  Free 
Press :  "  Your  last  number  contained  some  references  to  the 
late  Lord  Beaconsfield,  repeating  the  frequent  assertion  that 


VIII. 


DUSKY    CRANE'S  BILL. 


To  face  page  5 


PRIMROSE  FLOWERS  51 

of  the  primrose  may  presently  make  it  a  rare  plant, 
we  may  mention  that  few  plants  propagate  more 
freely.  After  the  parent  plant  has  finished  flower- 
ing we  may  find  scattered  around  it  any  number 
of  vigorous  seedlings,  which  we  may  in  turn  plant 
out,  and  thus  largely  increase  our  store.  We  figure 
the  flower  on  Plate  III.  Primrose  flowers  vary  a 
good  deal  both  in  colour  and  form.  Some  are 
almost  white,  while  others  are  of  a  much  deeper 
yellow  than  the  normal  sulphur-tint.  Some,  from 
the  narrowness  of  the  petal  segments,  have  a 
star-like  form,  while  in  others  the  flowers  are 
round  in  appearance,  the  segments  being  broad 
and  often  overlapping  each  other.  Another 
curious  thing  to  note  is  that  on  some  roots  the 
blossoms  have  the  head  of  the  pistil  plainly  visible 
in  the  centre  of  the  flower,  the  stamens  being 
considerably  below  this,  reaching,  in  fact,  but  half- 
way up  the  tube ;  in  other  examples  it  is  the  pistil 
that  reaches  but  this  intermediate  height,  while  the 

he  had  no  special  regard  for  primroses.  Having  had  the 
honour  to  serve  as  land  agent  to  the  late  earl  for  many  years, 
perhaps  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  that  no  one  on  the 
Hughenden  estate  doubted  his  lordship's  keen  affection  for 
primroses.  The  woodmen  had  orders  to  protect  these 
plants  ;  they  were  cultivated  in  large  numbers  alongside  the 
walk  behind  the  manor  house,  known  locally  as  the  '  German 
Forest  path '  ;  and  by  the  earl's  directions  (given  to  me 
personally  during  the  last  year  of  his  life)  a  clump  of  trees  in 
the  park  where  the  grass  grew  scantily  was  thickly  planted 
with  ferns  and  primroses." 


52  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

five  stamen  anthers  form  a  coronet  at  the  mouth  of 
the  tube.  These  are  known  respectively  as  pin- 
centre  and  rose-centre  flowers.  The  transfer  of  the 
pollen  from  the  anthers  to  the  pistil-head  is  naturally 
most  readily  performed  in  the  rose-centred  flowers, 
the  fertilisation  in  the  other  form,  the  pin-centre, 
being  almost  wholly  dependent  on  the  transfer  of 
the  pollen  from  some  other  primrose  flower  by  the 
unconcious  agency  of  bees  or  other  insect  visitors 
to  the  blossoms. 
Cowper  tells  of — 

"  Lanes  in  which  the  primrose  ere  her  time 
Peeps  through  the  moss  that  clothes  the  hawthorn  root/' 

and  in  sheltered  hedgerows  we  may  find  primroses 
in  bloom  sometimes  even  at  Christmas.  The  poets 
often  adopt  a  somewhat  patronising  and  pitying  tone 
in  their  dealings  with  the  primrose ;  l  but  in  truth  it 
needs  no  such  commiseration,  as  it  can  well  hold  its 
own  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  and  accepts  with 
equal  fortitude  driving  sleet,  drenching  rain,  roaring 
gale,  or  whatever  else  disagreeably  climatic  may 
befall  it.  Its  blossoms  are  at  least  as  permanent  as 

1  "The  primrose  pale." — SCOTT. 
u  Pale  primrose.'' — SHAKESPEARE. 
"Soft  silken  primrose,  fading  timelessly." — MILTON. 
"  The  rathe  primrose  that  forsaken  dies." — MILTON. 
u  O   that   so    faire   a   flower   so    soone    should    fade." — 
SPENSER. 


PRIMROSE  IN  MEDICINE  53 

those  of  most  other  flowers ;  their  delicacy  and 
refinement  of  colour  probably  suggested  the  idea  of 
a  frailty  for  which  there  is  no  real  warrant. 

The  primrose  derives  its  name  from  being  one  of 
the  earliest  plants  of  the  year,  and  its  French, 
Italian,  and  German  names  are  equally  significant ; 
but,  curiously  enough,  by  many  old  authors  the 
name  is  applied  to  the  daisy.  Matthiolus,  for 
example,  figures  a  most  unmistakable  daisy  for 
his  Fiore  di  prima  vera,  and  we  find  the  same 
thing  again  in  the  "  Ortus  Sanitatus"  and  other 
early  works. 

In  some  parts  of  the  country  a  primrose  bloom- 
ing prematurely  betokens  ill-fortune,  and  the  intro- 
duction of  the  flower  into  the  house  is  held  disastrous. 
Like  most  other  plants,  however,  it  was  deemed 
medicinal,  and  folks  having  "the  phrensie,  choler, 
or  flematicke  humour"  were  glad  to  gather  the 
leaves  and  flowers  and  make  a  decoction  from  them, 
adding  thereto  a  little  sugar,  pepper,  salt,  and  butter. 
The  leaves  boiled  in  wine  were  held  good  for  "the 
drawing  forth  of  the  flesh  any  thorne  or  bone  fixed 
therein,"  while  the  "uiyce"  of  the  pounded  roots 
"  sniffed  into  the  nose  purgeth  the  braine  and 
qualifieth  the  paine  of  the  megrim."  It  is  clearly, 
therefore,  a  plant  to  be  cultivated.  Even  to  those 
who  may,  to  their  grievous  loss,  be  indifferent  to 
its  charm  and  to  its  association  with  sweet  Spring- 
time, there  remains  this  practical  utility,  the  relief 


54  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

of  their  own  megrims.  Such  ailments  are  often 
imaginary,  and  for  these  an  imaginary  remedy 
should  be  of  the  greatest  value. 

The  mealy  primrose — the  Primula  farinosa  of 
the  botanist — should,  if  possible,  find  a  place  in  our 
garden,  if  we  can  somewhere  devise  a  bit  of  bog- 
land  ;  and  this  we  must  certainly  do,  if  at  all 
possible,  or  we  shall  fail  to  rear  many  charming 
things — the  bog-bean,  bog-pimpernel,  bog-campanula, 
and  many  others.  The  mealy  primrose  is  common 
enough  in  many  parts  of  Northern  England,  the 
moist  meadowlands  being  sometimes  quite  tinted 
over  with  its  multitudinous  lilac  -  pink  blossoms. 
These,  like  little  primroses  in  form,  all  cluster 
together  at  the  top  of  each  flower-stem.  In  a  wild 
state  it  seeds  very  freely,  but  if  we  have  been  at 
all  successful  in  its  culture  it  is  scarcely  worth  while 
to  trouble  about  seedlings,  as  the  roots  divide  up 
very  readily.  Down  South  it  is  a  rather  difficult 
plant  to  rear.  Parkinson,  the  author  of  a  delightful 
herbal  written  in  the  seventeenth  century,  gives  us 
his  experience  that  it  "  would  hardly  abide  culture." 
If  we  give  it  too  scanty  a  supply  of  water  during  the 
Summer  it  will  certainly  die,  but  it  can  equally  be 
destroyed  by  too  much  wet  in  winter.  The  plant 
derives  its  popular  name  from  the  grey,  meal-like 
look  of  the  under  surfaces  of  the  leaves.  The 
primula  frondosa,  another  of  our  charming  rock- 
garden  plants,  is  very  similar  in  general  appearance 


GERMINATION  OF  SEEDS  55 

to  the  mealy  primrose.  We  figure  it  on  Plate 
XLI V.  The  silvery  whiteness  of  the  under  side  of 
the  leaves  will  at  once  be  noted.  It  is  not  a  British 
species.  The  closely  allied  plants,  the  cowslip  and 
the  oxlip,  should  find  a  place  in  our  collection ;  the 
latter,  perhaps,  especially. 

The  seedlings  that  spring  up  around  us  are  often 
very  interesting,  the  first  leaves  being  generally  so 
entirely  different  from  those  that  succeed  them. 
Any  one  who  has  grown  sunflowers  or  scarlet- 
runners,  mustard  or  radishes,  must  have  observed 
this  curious  feature,  and  in  the  woods  the  seedling 
beeches,  sycamores,  and  many  other  trees  exhibit 
the  same  thing.  The  young  lime,  for  example, 
has  its  first  leaves  spreading  broadly  like  a  hand 
with  extended  fingers,  and  absolutely  different 
in  character  to  those  that  succeed  them. 

Seeds  to  germinate  successfully  require  light  and 
air,  and  a  certain  amount  of  heat  and  moisture.  If 
sown  when  the  ground  is  very  wet  they  will  prob- 
ably decay  ;  if,  on  the  contrary,  sown  under  condi- 
tions too  dry  for  their  well-being,  germination  is 
checked,  and  the  young  plant  probably  perishes 
from  drought.  If  sown  too  deeply,  though  the  seed 
may  swell  and  growth  commence,  it  suffers  from  lack 
of  warmth  and  air,  and  the  ascending  shoots  fail  to 
reach  the  surface.  Nature  mothers  her  offspring 
with  a  wonderful  solicitude.  When  the  keen  frosts 
of  the  opening  year  have  broken  up  the  ground 


56  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

an  entrance  is  given  to  the  liberal  rain-pour  of 
February.  The  March  winds  dry  up  the  super- 
fluous moisture,  and  make  the  soil  fit  for  the  recep- 
tion of  the  seed,  and  then  for  the  well-being  of  the 
tender  plant  are  provided  the  gentle  showers,  the 
outbursts  of  sunshine,  of  April. 

The  vitality  of  seeds  is  a  point  of  interest  that  is 
often  impressed  upon  one's  notice,  plants  suddenly 
appearing  in  one's  ground  of  which  we  had  no 
expectation,  and  which  must  have  been  resting 
dormant  for  a  considerable  period.  We  have 
known  an  instance  where  a  piece  of  land  that  had 
been  laid  down  as  a  pasture  for  over  thirty  years 
yielded  an  abundant  crop  of  charlock  on  being 
ploughed  up.  One  finds,  too,  that  following  such 
disturbance  of  the  soil  as  results  from  digging 
foundations,  making  wells,  railway  cuttings,  and  the 
like,  an  entirely  new  series  of  plants  springs  into 
existence,  and  not  uncommonly  some  of  these  are 
plants  that  are  found  nowhere  else  in  the  district. 

Every  nature-lover,  of  course,  knows  and  appre- 
ciates the  daffodil  ;  we  figure  it  on  Plate  I.,  and  it 
certainly  must  not  be  omitted  in  our  gardening 
operations.  The  flowers  are  so  refined  in  form 
and  so  delicate  in  colour  that  we  each  year  gladly 
find  room  for  them.1  The  daffodil  delights  to  grow 

1  Ruskin  tells  us  that  u  after  all  there  are  only  three  things 
worth  anything  in  this  world,  or  probably  in  any  other — to 
feel  what  is  beautiful,  know  what  is  true,  and  do  what  is 


IX. 


SPIRXEA    TOMENTOSA,    GERANIUM     NODOSUM,    AND 
SEDUM     RUPESTRE. 


To  face  page  56 


DAFFODILS  57 

in  copse-land  and  in  open  clearings  in  woods,  and 
though  not  so  commonly  distributed  over  the 
country  as  some  other  plants,  is  ordinarily  in 
abundance  when  met  with  at  all.  Wordsworth's 
"  host  of  golden  daffodils  "  that  "  stretched  in  never- 
ending  line,"  and  which  he  computed  at  some  ten 
thousand,  are  recalled  to  one's  memory.  We  have 
seen  far-reaching  tracts  of  woodland  as  gloriously 
yellow  with  countless  daffodils  as  a  buttercup 
meadow  is  in  June,  and  though  it  is  in  such  districts 
the  correct  thing  for  the  children  and  cottagers  to 
"  go  daffying,"  not  all  the  baskets-full  of  golden 
treasure  that  are  carried  off  appear  capable  of 
diminishing  the  wealth  of  blossom  in  the  slightest 
degree. 

The  older  herbal-writers  call  them  affodillies,  the 
Latin  name  being  asphodelus,  but  with  the  popular 
taste  for  alliteration I  we  get  daffodil  too,  and 
daffadilly,  or  even,  as  in  Spenser's  "  Shepherd's 
Calendar,"  daffadowndilly.  They  are  also  some- 
times called  Lent-lilies,  and  golden  tassel.  The 
aspodel  was  in  classic  days  one  of  the  sacred 
flowers,  being  dedicated  to  Proserpine  and  blossom- 
ing in  the  Elysium  Fields.  It  is  referred  to  by 

good."  The  lover  of  his  garden  plot  may  claim  at  least  the 
first  third  of  this  ideal  life. 

1  As  in  bachelor's  buttons,  parsley-piert,  codlins  and  cream, 
goosegrass,  primprint,  primrose-peerless,  hook-heal,  lamb's- 
lettuce,  tine-tare. 


58  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

Homer,  Sophocles,  Lucian,  Virgil,  and  many  other 
venerable  authors,  and  in  later  days  its  charms 
have  been  sung  by  Shakespeare,  Dray  ton,  Milton, 
Herrick,  Keats,  and  divers  other  poets. 

Daffodil  culture  has  produced  a  great  variety  of 
very  beautiful  forms.  These  are  grown,  commer- 
cially, in  immense  quantities.  From  the  Scilly  Isles 
alone  over  five  hundred  tons  of  Spring  flowers  are 
sent  up  to  the  great  metropolis  and  the  provincial 
flower  markets,  and  these  are  mostly  daffodils.  As 
it  takes  about  seven  thousand  bunches  of  twelve 
flowers  each  to  make  one  ton  weight,  it  will  be  seen 
that  this  means  the  gathering  of  millions  of  these 
flowers  from  this  source  alone.  The  fen-lands  of 
Lincolnshire  and  Cambridge  are  also  largely  de- 
voted to  this  industry.  At  Wisbeach,  for  instance, 
one  grower  alone  will  show  us  over  five  million 
bulbs  in  bloom  at  once — a  sight  indeed  to  see. 

Daffodil  bulbs,  wild  or  cultivated,  should  be 
planted  in  our  rock-garden  soon  after  they  have 
done  flowering,  and  they  require  moisture,  so  that 
on  light,  sandy  ground  one  has  but  little  success. 
They  must  be  planted,  too,  where  they  will  get  the 
benefit  of  some  little  shade  :  it  must  not  be  for- 
gotten that  they  are  plants  of  the  woodland.  Near 
where  we  pen  these  lines  daffodils  are  grown  in 
immense  numbers  in  the  orchards,  and  very  beau- 
tiful they  look  as  they  extend  as  far  as  the  eye  can 
see  beneath  the  leafless  apple  and  pear-trees. 


HYACINTHS  59 

Long  ere  the  trampling  of  fruit-gathering  time  the 
plants  are  safely  ensconced  below  the  surface. 
"The  plentifull  root,  being  ministred  medicine- 
like  remedieth  the  serpents  sting  ;  "  at  least  Maplet1 
says  it  does.  We  trust  that  none  of  our  readers 
may  ever  have  to  put  it  to  the  test.  On  Plate  XXVI. 
we  have  a  very  curious  member  of  the  family — the 
Narcissus  cyclamineus.  This  came  to  us  from 
Portugal.  The  vigorous  throwing  back,  cyclamen- 
like,  of  the  perianth,  naturally  suggests  its  specific 
name.  It  has  a  distinct  and  quaint  originality  that, 
with  its  early  appearance  and  rich  golden  colour, 
makes  it  very  attractive. 

The  daffodil  naturally  suggests  to  one  its  sister 
bulb,  the  hyacinth.  The  one  flowers  in  rich  pro- 
fusion, clothing  the  woodlands  in  a  robe  of  gold  : 
the  other,  in  equal  profusion,  with  a  mantle,  no  less 
beautiful,  of  purple.  There  is  scarcely  a  more 
charming  Spring  sight  than  the  soft  haze  of  violet 
colour  extending  in  every  direction  beneath  the 
overhanging  boughs  when  the  hyacinths,  in  count- 
less thousands,  deck  the  ground.2  A  few  plants  in 

1  "  A  Greene  Forest,"  1567. 

2  "Groves  that  looked  a  perfect  paradise 

Of  blossom,  over  sheets  of  hyacinth, 
That  seemed  the  heavens  upbreaking  through  the  earth." 

TENNYSON. 

There  is  no  finer  Nature-poet  than  Tennyson  ;  his  word- 
pictures  are  not  only  poetic  in  their  setting  forth,  but 
absolutely  true  to  the  hard  facts, 


60  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

one's  own  garden  give  no  suggestions  of  this 
prodigal  wealth  of  colour,  but  they  are  at  least 
reminiscent,  and  therefore  welcome. 

"  The  root  of  Hyacinth,  boyled  in  wine,  and 
drunke,"  we  are  told  by  one  of  the  old  herbalists, 
"helpeth  against  the  venemous  bitings  of  the  field 
Spider :  being  beaten  and  applied  with  white  wine 
they  keepe  back  the  growth  of  haires.  The  root  is 
full  of  a  shiny  glewish  juyce,  which  wil  serue  to 
set  feathers  vpon  arrowes  in  stead  of  glew,  or  to 
paste  bookes  with." 

If  we  are  to  believe  the  ancient  poets  and  their 
imitators,  the  original  Hyacinthus  was  not  a  flower  at 
all,  but  a  youth  who  was  greatly  beloved  by  Apollo 
and  Zephyr.  He  unfortunately  displayed  so  marked 
a  preference  for  the  former  that  the  latter  grew  out- 
rageously jealous,  and  one  day  when  the  injudicious 
youth  was  indulging  in  a  game  of  quoits  with  the 
Sun-god,  the  quoit  of  Apollo  was  blown  by  Zephyr 
on  to  the  head  of  Hyacinthus  with  such  hearty  ill- 
will  that  nothing  would  have  remained  in  these 
matter-of-fact  days  but  to  hold  the  inquest  and  make 
the  necessary  funeral  arrangements.  Instead  of 
this  prosaic  ending,  however,  Apollo  changed  him 
into  the  flower  that  has  ever  since  borne  his  name. 
The  "  fair-haired  hyacinth"  that  Ben  Jonson  sings 
of  does  not  derive  its  epithet  from  any  hirsute 
feature  now  visible  in  the  flower :  the  reference  is 
to  the  flowing  locks  of  the  original  bearer  of  the 


BUTTERCUP  GROWING  61 

name.  While  enjoying  to  the  full  the  tempered 
sunshine  the  old  tragedy  is  not  repeated,  the  most 
searchingly  jealous  blasts  of  boisterous  March  being 
powerless  to  cut  short  its  fair  existence. 

The  flower  of  the  hyacinth  though  normally  of  a 
rich  blue-purple  may  not  unfrequently  be  found  of 
a  pure  white — a  variation  that  we  shall  be  careful 
in  our  woodland  rambles  to  be  on  the  watch  for. 
The  odour  of  the  flower  is  very  strong,  and,  though 
very  sweet,  is  almost  too  powerful  for  some  folk 
the  rich  fragrance  arising  from  a  large  mass  of  its 
blossoms,  in  their  unfortunate  case,  producing 
giddiness  and  a  sense  of  nausea. 

The  R.  amplexicaulis  is  an  interesting  buttercup 
to  grow.  Its  large  white  flowers  are  quite  suffi- 
ciently in  accordance  with  one's  idea  of  what  a 
buttercup  should  be,  but  the  very  simple  form  of 
foliage,  and  its  habit  of  clasping  the  stem,  at  once 
attracts  notice.  We  figure  it  in  Plate  XLIII.  Yet 
another  foreigner  may  be  found  on  Plate  XLVI.  : 
this  is  the  mountain  buttercup,  R.  montanm.  Our 
specimens  were  one  of  the  numerous  results  of  a 
holiday  in  Switzerland,  plant-hunting  in  its  aim. 

The  pilewort,  or  lesser  celandine,  we  must  have, 
for  Wordsworth's  sake  I  and  our  own — and  perhaps 

1 "  Pansies,  lilies,  kingcups,  daisies, 
Let  them  live  upon  their  praises  : 
Long  as  there's  a  sun  that  sets, 
Primroses  will  have  their  glory  ; 


62  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

more  especially  for  our  own.  Its  golden  stars  (see 
Plate  IV.)  are  to  be  met  with  in  profusion  in  the 
hedgerows  and  woods.  That  it  should  be  called 
the  lesser  celandine  clearly  implies  that  somewhere 
or  another  there  must  be  a  larger  celandine,  and 
so  truly  there  is,  and  we  shall  hope  to  make  its 
acquaintance  presently.  These  celandines  derive 
their  name  from  the  Greek  name,  chelidon,  for  a 
swallow,  in  the  case  of  our  present  plant  from  its 
appearance  and  that  of  the  swallow  being  more  or 
less  contemporaneous.  When  we  pull  the  plant  up 
we  find  at  its  base  a  mass  of  little  tubers,  and  by 
this  means,  as  in  the  case  of  the  potato  or  artichoke, 
the  plant  is  propagated  very  freely.  It  behoves  one 
then  to  take  quiet  thought  whether  we  want  the 
plant  or  not,  since  when  we  have  once  made  up  our 
mind  that  we  do  the  decision  is  final.  Even  the 
smallest  tuber  grows,  and  it  is  practically  impossible 
to  get  rid  of  the  plant  when  we  have  once  elected  in 
its  favour.  Still,  as  we  do  not  want  to  get  rid  of  it 
this  reflection  need  not  grieve  us.  Its  brightly 
burnished  foliage  and  brilliant  blossoms  come  at 
a  time  when  there  is  little  else,  and  though  after 
flowering-time  has  passed  the  leaves  begin  to  get  a 
little  shabby,  all  that  is  needful  is  to  pull  the  plants 

Long  as  there  are  violets, 
They  will  have  their  place  in  story  ; 
There's  a  flower  that  shall  be  mine, 
'Tis  the  little  celandine." 


BLOOD    GERANIUM     and     PENCILLED    GERANIUM. 


To  face  page  62. 


BUTTER  AND  BUTTERCUPS  63 

up  vigorously,  remorselessly,  well  assured  that  next 
season  will  bring  us  as  goodly  a  show  as  ever. 

The  lesser  celandine  is  botanically  a  buttercup. 
Most  of  the  buttercups  are  partial  to  damp  situa- 
tions, and  if  we  are  able  to  arrange  a  little  bit 
of  swamp  the  water-buttercup,  with  its  pure  white 
flowers,  should  certainly  find  a  place,  and  by  all 
means  the  great  spearwort,  with  its  flowers  as  large 
as  pennies.  The  wood-buttercup  is  a  charming 
little  species,  and  we  have  also  grown  the  upright 
meadow  crowfoot  (Plate  XXXII.).  This  branches 
very  -  freely,  with  delicate  slender  stems,  bears  a 
large  number  of  bright  yellow  flowers,  and  attains 
a  height  of  a  yard  or  more.  Having  got  our  little 
patch  of  bog  we  shall  be  careful  to  secure  some 
marsh-marigold  for  it,  a  near  relative  of  the  butter- 
cups, common  enough  in  most  places,  but  none  the 
worse  for  that.  In  the  language  of  science  a  butter- 
cup is  a  Ranunculus,  a  diminutive  from  the  Latin 
rana,  a  frog,  in  allusion  to  the  damp  situations 
which  most  of  the  species  thrive  in  :  hence  some 
of  the  old  herbalists  call  them  "  little  frogges  grass." 
The  belief  that  the  rich  yellow  of  Spring  butter  is 
caused  by  the  cows  eating  the  great  sheets  of  golden 
buttercup  that  then  so  lavishly  deck  the  meadows  is 
altogether  without  foundation.  The  richness  of  the 
butter  arises  from  the  general  vigour  of  the  growth 
of  the  herbage  under  the  genial  influence  of  the 
season,  but  if  one  carefully  watches  the  cows  in  one 


64  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

of  these  flowery  meads  we  shall  soon  perceive 
they  very  carefully  avoid  the  golden  cups.  When 
made  into  hay  these  plants  would  appear  to  lose 
all  their  acrid  and  noxious  qualities. 

Maplet  in  his  book  "  A  Greene  Forest,'*  tells 
us  how  in  his  time  "  the  valiant  Beggers,  most 
cunning  in  that  their  daylie  craft  doe  make  their 
flesh  seem  rawe  and  rancored"  by  the  use  of 
buttercup  leaves,  "to  the  intent  men  may  pittie 
them  the  more,  and  give  them  the  sooner  their 
Almes ;  whereas  peradventure  they  be  as  whole 
and  as  lustie  as  those  that  have  pittie  of  them 
in  very  deede.  But  here  we  may  percieue  there 
is  a  counterfayting  almost  in  euerie  thing.  They 
therefore  to  beguile  men  thus  vse  it.  With  this 
they  chafe  their  legges,  their  armes,  and  other  partes 
also  where  they  will,  till  it  blister  and  breake  the 
skinne,  and  having  so  done  it  sheweth  a  right 
meruelous  ill  looke."  To  tender  skins  even  the 
gathering  of  the  plants  may  be  irritant. 

"For  many  years,"  wrote  Carlyle,  "it  has  been 
one  of  my  constant  regrets  that  no  schoolmaster 
of  mine  had  a  knowledge  of  natural  history,  so 
far  at  least  as  to  have  taught  me  the  grasses 
that  grow  by  the  roadside,"  and  he  prophesied 
that  a  time  would  come  when  such  knowledge 
should  be  strictly  required  from  the  teacher.  In 
many  of  our  large  Public  Schools  the  Natural 
History  Society  is  a  valuable  feature,  and  affords 


DESIRABLE   KNOWLEDGE  65 

an  excellent  opportunity  for  any  and  all  of  its 
members  to  acquire  this  desirable  knowledge, 
while  the  rural  surroundings  of  many  of  them 
supply  those  "happy  hunting  grounds"  that  turn 
the  study  into  a  delight.  In  our  Board  Schools 
the  pressure  of  work  is  already  tremendous,  while 
their  situation  in  the  midst  of  our  crowded  streets 
is  a  great  drawback.  While  therefore  we  have 
thousands  of  children  in  our  midst  who  are 
passing  in  this  or  that  standard,  who  can  repeat 
the  order  of  succession  of  the  kings  of  Judah,  on 
what  river  the  most  insignificant  town  in  Europe 
is  situated,  or  the  natural  products  of  Alaska, 
such  natural  products  of  their  own  land  as  a  stag- 
beetle,  a  glow-worm,  or  the  golden  stars  of  the 
celandine,  of  which  in  their  Readers  they  find  the 
poet  Wordsworth  singing  the  praises,  are  unknown 
to  them. 

The  want  of  this  knowledge  is  not  only  the 
loss  of  much  pleasure,  but  has  at  times  its  incon- 
veniences. Such  knowledge  is  not  a  mere  aesthetic 
whim,  but  a  possession  of  downright  practical  value. 
We  had  a  curious  little  illustration  of  this  lately. 
A  great  bird-fancier  told  us  that  he  found  it  so 
difficult  to  get  a  sufficient  quantity  of  groundsel 
that  he  had  been  planting  roots  of  it  in  his  own 
garden  so  as  to  ensure  a  perennial  home  supply, 
but  that  he  had  been  entirely  unsuccessful  in  rear- 
ing it.  The  groundsel  is  an  annual,  and  springs 

5 


66  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

afresh  each  year.  We  sent  him  a  large  boxful  of 
seed  and  he  will  now  doubtless  succeed  in  rearing 
an  ample  supply.1 

One  great  drawback  of  this  want  of  knowledge 
is  that  children  and  others  are  ignorant  of  the 
deleterious  effects  of  some  of  our  commonest  plants. 
While  our  chemists  carefully  label  their  bottles 
with  full  instructions  and  cautions  as  to  the 
poisonous  nature  of  their  contents — and  the  sale  of 
these  drugs  is  very  properly  fenced  round  with 
many  restrictions — almost  any  mile  of  country 
hedgerow,  or  acre  of  suburban  allotment  ground, 
contains  enough  deleterious  material  to  decimate 
the  whole  parish. 

From  want  of  definite  and  precise  knowledge, 
many  persons  think  to  be  on  the  safe  side  by 
telling  children  that  everything  they  touch  is 
poisonous,  and  conjure  up  the  most  alarming  tales 
as  to  the  consequences  that  will  inevitably  ensue 
if  the  warning  be  disregarded.  This  does  very 
well  perhaps  for  a  while,  but  the  discovery  is  soon 

1  A  country  friend  of  ours  told  his  coachman  to  go  into  the 
garden  and  dig  up  some  celery.  After  a  considerable  wan- 
dering round  the  paths  he  was  at  length  forced  to  come 
in  and  ask  some  one  to  show  him  which  the  celery  was  ! 
Before  this  he  had  a  servant  who  had  come  in  from  one 
of  her  first  walks  in  the  country  in  a  state  of  great  astonish- 
ment :  she  had  seen  a  man  digging  onions  up  out  of  the 
ground.  Till  this  awakening  she  had  thought  that  they 
grew  on  trees, 


SAFETY  IN  KNOWLEDGE  67 

made  that  actual  facts  do  not  accord  with  these 
highly  sensational  stories — some  companion  perhaps, 
who  has  not  had  these  solemn  warnings  addressed 
to  him,  eating  some  wayside  fruit,  and  evidently 
enjoying  it,  without  coming  at  all  to  that  grievous 
damage  that  was  to  be  anticipated.  The  period  of 
unquestioning  faith  then  gives  place  to  an  equally 
strong  feeling  of  scepticism — a  state  of  things  that 
may  really  end  in  very  considerable  peril.  The 
path  of  safety  lies  in  accurate  knowledge  alone. 


XI. 


SNAPDRAGON    and    CELANDINE. 


To  face  page  69. 


CHAPTER   III 

Anemones,  or  wood-flowers — The  yellow  anemone — The 
mountain  anemone — The  so-called  hepatica — Lady's- 
smocks — The  monks  as  herbalists — Plants  as  teachers 
of  religion — Wood  sorrel — Solomon's-seal — Solomon  as 
herbalist — Tusser's  u  Fiue  Hundred  Pointes  of  Good 
Husbandrie  " — Lilies  of  the  valley — Cosmopolitan  plants 
— Our  familiar  wildlings  introduced  into  Japan,  the 
United  States,  Australia,  &c. — Of  intention  or  inad- 
vertently— Our  daisies — La  Belle  Marguerite — Chaucer's 
favourite  flower — The  virtues  of  May-dew — Ox-eyes — 
Names  suggestive  of  resemblance — The  alkanets  we 
grow. 

THE  snow-white  anemones  that  spring  up  in 
such  profusion  in  the  copses  in  March  and 
April  are  so  called  from  the  Greek  word  for  wind, 
the  name  being  given  from  an  old  belief  that  the 
flowers  could  not  expand  till  beaten  by  the  wind. 
This  idea  is  found  in  the  works  of  the  earliest 
writers,  such  as  Dioscorides  and  Pliny.  It  is  often 
called  the  wind-flower,  and  especially  by  the  poets. 
It  is  a  very  easy  plant  to  cultivate,  seeming  to 
do  equally  well  whether  in  the  sunshine  or  the 
shade,  and  when  once  established  needs  no  further 
care.  On  our  second  plate  we  have  an  illustra- 


70  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

tion  of  the  double  form,  where  the  mass  of  yellow 
anthers  is  replaced  by  a  white  frilling.  In  turning 
over  our  copy  of  Gerard  "  Of  the  Historic  of 
Plants,"  the  edition  being  that  of  the  year  1633, 
we  are  interested  to  see  an  illustration  of  this 
double  white  wood  anemone.  He  writes  of  it : 
"  There  is  in  some  choice  gardens  one  of  this 
kinde  with  white  floures  very  double,  and  I  had 
one  of  them  given  me  by  a  Worshipfull  Merchant 
of  London,  called  Mr.  John  Franqueville,  my  very 
good  friend."  The  form,  as  he  gives  it,  lacks 
the  elegance  of  growth  of  our  plant  of  the  year 
1908.  As  we  see  it  priced  at  threepence  a  root 
in  a  gardener's  catalogue l  its  acquisition  can 
scarcely  be  held  an  extravagance,  though  ours, 
the  gift  of  a  botanical  friend,  now  gone  hence, 
has  a  more  tender  association. 

The  yellow  anemone,  botanically  the  A.  ranuncu- 
loides,  and  the  mountain  anemone,  the  A.  Apennina, 
are  both  South  European  specimens,  but  are  occa- 
sionally found,  as  escapes,  in  England,  and  have 
obtained  in  consequence  a  somewhat  dubious  place 
in  our  British  plant  lists.  The  first  of  these  has 
flowers  of  a  bright  golden  yellow — we  figure  it  on 

1  If  we  once  allow  ourselves  to  come  under  the  spell  of 
these  tempting  productions,  many  beautiful  anemones  are 
open  to  us — A.  Robinsoniana,  with  large  sky-blue  flowers, 
A.  fulgens,  gloriously  crimson,  and  others  that  we  need  not 
name,  having  blossoms  of  a  deep  blue,  rich  purple,  sulphur 
yellow,  pale  rose,  straw-colour,  and  many  other  varieties. 


ANEMONE  FLOWERS  71 

Plate  III. — and  it  is  scarcely  surprising  that  some 
of  the  earlier  herbalists  thought  it  a  buttercup,  not 
the  colour  of  the  flowers  alone,  but  the  form  of  the 
foliage  being  reminiscent  of  the  blossoms  and  leaves 
of  one  of  the  commonest  of  our  buttercups.     Hence, 
too,  it  is  botanically  the  A.  ranunculoides,  the  ran- 
unculus-like   anemone.     The   petaloid   sepals  vary 
in  number  in  all  the  anemones,  being  anything  in 
individual   flowers   from   five   to   nine,   but  with  a 
partiality  for  six.     The  possession  of  but  five  in 
the   flower   we   figure   makes  the  effect   yet  more 
buttercup-like.      The   typical   growth   of  all  these 
anemones    is    the    throwing   up    of  a  single  stem, 
surmounted  by  a  single  blossom,  and  having  some 
little  distance  from  its  upper  extremity  a  ring  of 
three  more  or  less  elaborately  cut  leaves  :  the  rising 
of  two  stems  from  this  ring — a  feature  that  we  see 
in  our  drawing  of  the  yellow  anemome — is  abnormal, 
though  in  looking  through  our  plants  we  have  found 
it  in  several  instances.     The  mountain  anemone — 
Plate    IV. — is    seen    at    its    best    in    the    Alpine 
pastures,  but  it  readily  accommodates  itself  to  culti- 
vation.    Its  flowers  are  of  a  delicate  bluish  purple. 
The    Pasque  flower,    a   British   species,   must   also 
find   a   place   in   our   collection.      It   is   somewhat 
lacking  in  the  grace  of  our   other   anemones,  but 
its  deep  purple  flowers  and  very  finely  cut  leaves 
give  it  a  welcome  individuality.      It  is  a  plant  of 
the  chalk  and  limestone  districts. 


72  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

From  a  remote  antiquity  the  wood  anemone 
has  had  wonderful  healing  powers  ascribed  to 
it.  Even  so  early  a  writer  as  Pliny,  compiling 
his  "Historia  Mundi"  in  the  first  century  of  the 
Christian  era,  tells  us  of  wise  men  of  old  who 
bade  their  disciples  gather  the  first  flower  they 
saw  each  Spring,  repeating  on  doing  so  the  for- 
mula, "  I  gather  thee  as  a  remedy  against  all 
disease."  This  blossom  was  then  reverently  placed 
in  a  fold  of  scarlet  cloth,  to  be  left  undisturbed, 
unless  by  evil  fate  the  gatherer  fell  ill,  when  it 
was  to  be  tied  round  his  neck.  The  assumption 
was  that  he  would  there  and  then  amend. 

Yet  another  anemone  is  figured  on  Plate  V.,  the 
plant  that  our  gardeners  ordinarily  call  the 
hepatica,  in  the  same  way  that  another  well-known 
plant  is  popularly  called  the  japonica.  Both  these 
names,  however,  are  but  the  specific  titles.  The 
one  plant  is  the  Anemone  Hepatica  and  the  other 
the  Pyrus  japonica.  The  plant  that  we  may  for 
convenience'  sake  call  the  hepatica  is  not  one  of  our 
British  anemones,  though  it  is  common  enough 
in  Switzerland  amongst  the  Spring  wild  flowers 
there.  As  we  have  already  emphasised  that  one 
feature  of  an  anemone  plant  is  the  ring  of  three 
leaves  upon  its  stem,  our  readers  may  perchance 
feel  that  our  illustration  scarcely  bears  this  out, 
but  in  this  species  this  involucral  ring  is  so 
close  to  the  flower  that  it  resembles  a  three- 


LADY'S-SMOCK  73 

sepaled  calyx.  It  is  clearly  shown  in  the  right- 
hand  figure,  after  the  withering-off  of  the  perianth. 
The  word  hepatica  is  Greek  in  its  origin  and 
relates  to  the  supposed  efficacy  of  the  plant  in 
liver  trouble. 

The  other  two  plants  on  our  plate  are  also 
foreigners.  The  one  to  the  left  is  one  of  the  very 
numerous  rock  saxifrages,  the  SaxifragaElizabethece, 
a  charming  plant  for  the  rockery  :  its  blossoms, 
large  for  this  genus,  and  of  a  delicate  sulphur 
yellow,  being  very  attractive.  The  remaining 
plant  is  the  quaint  Hacquetia  Epipactis,  a  plant 
that  just  misses  being  Swiss,  since  though  it  is 
found  at  the  foot  of  the  Great  St.  Bernard,  it 
is  upon  the  Italian  side.  These  three  plants 
were  flowering  with  us  at  the  beginning  of  April. 

The  delicate  and  graceful  Lady's-smock  may  be 
found  in  abundance  in  May  in  damp  pastures,  and 
by  the  sides  of  streams  and  wayside  ditches, 
and  it  may  well  find  a  place  in  our  regard.  Its 
old  English  name  points  to  the  time  when  this 
grace  and  delicacy  of  form  and  colour  caused  it 
to  be  specially  dedicated  to  the  Virgin  Mary. 
Its  tender  flowers  are  sometimes  pure  white,  but 
more  ordinarily  they  are  of  lilac  colour,  sometimes 
of  the  most  delicate  tinge,  at  others  of  a  more 
pronounced  tint.  Normally,  the  plant  being  a 
crucifer,  the  flowers  have  four  spreading  petals, 
but  the  blossoms  may  occasionally  be  found 


74  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

double;  the  form  we  depict  on  Plate  II.  We  are 
glad  to  grow  both  forms  :  the  double  is  the  less 
common,  and  therefore  we  select  it  for  illustration. 

In  the  dawn  of  our  island  story  the  monks  were 
the  scholars,  and  such  culture  as  was  existent 
found  its  home  in  the  cloister.  To  the  dwellers 
in  the  monastery  befell  at  once  two  grave  respon- 
sibilities :  the  care  of  the  bodies  and  of  the  souls  of 
men,  and  the  plants  around  them,  studied  for  the 
healing  of  the  physical  woes  that  flesh  is  heir  to, 
were  no  less,  as  we  have  seen  in  the  snowdrop, 
the  symbols  and  reminders  of  religious  belief. 
They  were  the  teachers  of  doctrine,  and  were 
associated  by  name  and  legend  with  the  saints 
and  martyrs,  and  thus  the  wayside  weed  recalled, 
however  imperfectly,  to  the  downtrodden  serf 
amidst  the  toil  of  the  fields,  to  the  rough  soldier  in 
the  turmoil  of  the  camp,  something  of  a  brighter 
hope,  a  higher  life.  Thus  the  little  field  pansy, 
with  its  threefold  coloration,  was  to  them  the 
symbol  of  Triune  Deity ;  the  season  of  special 
abstinence  was  recalled  by  the  Lent  lily,  while 
the  Pasque  flower  was  one  reminder  the  more  of 
the  joy  of  Easter,  the  great  Paschal  feast.  The 
cult  of  the  Virgin  Mary  had  associated  with  it  an 
extensive  Flora,  as  we  have  already  seen,  and 
this  lady's-smock  is  but  one  example  of  many. 

The  wood  sorrel  bore  Alleluia  as  one  of  its  old 
names,  not  only  in  England  but  in  France  and 


xi  r. 


mm 


SPIKED    SPEEDWELL. 


THE  WOOD  SORREL  75 

Italy,  from  its  flowering  between  Easter  and 
Whitsuntide,  the  psalms  recurring  in  the  church 
services  at  this  season  being  of  a  specially  jubilant 
character.  It  is  a  charming  little  plant,  alike  in 
flower  and  leaf,  and  we  very  gladly  find  it  a 
sheltered  and  rather  damp  corner  in  our  rock- 
garden.  It  is  an  excellent  weather-guide,  both 
the  flowers  and  the  foliage  closing  and  drooping 
before  rain  and  on  the  approach  of  evening, 
unfolding  again  with  the  approach  of  daylight  and 
sunshine.  It  is  curious  that  while  many  plants 
that  visibly  go  to  rest  at  night  will  unfold  their 
leaves  again  if  brought  under  the  influence  of 
strong  artificial  light,  the  wood  sorrel  declines  to 
be  thus  imposed  upon  :  bedtime  is  bedtime,  and 
daylight,  and  that  alone,  is  the  summons  for 
awakening.  The  leaves  are  so  sensitive  that  they 
droop  and  fold  together  if  at  all  roughly  handled. 
The  wood  sorrel  is  occasionally  found  with 
blossoms  of  a  bright  purplish  red,1  but  the  normal 
purple-veined  white  flowers  are  the  more  attractive. 
The  delicate  trefoil  leaves  have  a  sharp,  sour  taste, 
"  making  better  greenesauce  than  any  other  herb 
whatsoever,"  and  our  forefathers,  or  more  prob- 

1  We  are  referring  here  to  the  plant  as  a  wildling.  If 
we  turn  our  attention  to  the  cultivated  species  of  oxalis  we 
get  a  great  variety  of  colouring,  articulata  being  yellow- 
flowered,  Bowieana  crimson,  rosea  rose-coloured,  molacea 
violet,  speciosa  purple,  &c. 


76  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

ably  our  foremothers,  made  from  it  "a  cooling 
syrup  for  hot  pestilentiall  fevers."  Besides  its 
name  wood  sorrel,  which  we  may  take  to  be  a 
corruption  of  its  older  name  of  wood  sour,  it  was 
called  "  Cuckowes  meate,  because  either  the  Cuckow 
feedeth  thereon,  or  by  reason  when  it  springeth 
and  flouereth  the  Cuckow  singeth  most."  It  also 
bore  the  name  of  stabwort,  gowk-meat,  and  several 
other  names  of  more  or  less  local  employment. 

The  Solomon's-seal  is  another  early  flower  that 
we  are  glad  to  welcome  in  our  rock-garden,  and 
when  it  is  once  established  it  gives  us  no  further 
anxiety,  but  with  each  rotation  of  the  seasons  is 
ready  to  step  into  its  appointed  place.  It  is  a 
plant  of  the  woods,  and  throws  up  its  graceful 
flowering  stems  during  May.  The  foliage  is  slightly 
glossy  and  of  a  rather  bluish  green.  The  veining 
tells  somewhat  conspicuously,  and  this  feature, 
together  with  the  undulating  character  of  the  leaf 
and  its  waved  margins  gives  a  marked  individualism. 
The  pendant  groups  of  flowers  are  found  on  the 
under  side  of  the  stem.  They  spring  in  clusters  of 
two  or  three  blossoms  from  the  axils  of  the  leaves, 
are  of  a  delicate  creamy  white,  and  of  somewhat 
waxy  texture,  and  terminate  in  a  pale  green,  about 
the  lower  quarter  or  fifth  of  the  blossom  being  of 
this  tint,  but  all  so  delicately  gradated  that  no 
suggestion  of  a  dividing  line  between  the  two  colours 
is  at  all  felt.  The  flower-bearing  stems  are  some 


THE  SOLOMON'S-SEAL  77 

two  feet  long.  The  plant  is  found  throughout 
almost  all  Europe  and  Northern  Asia,  but  is  in 
Britain  decidedly  local.  It  is  sometimes  called 
Lady's-seal.  Why  it  should  be  called  Solomon's- 
seal  is  not  quite  obvious.  Two  or  three  explana- 
tions are  given,  and  we  need  scarcely  remind  our 
readers  that  when  a  boy  makes  two  or  three 
excuses  for  some  lapse,  it  is  because  he  feels  that 
not  one  of  them  on  its  own  merits  is  quite  good 
enough  to  serve,  and  in  the  same  way  multiplicity 
of  explanations  indicates  weakness.  Solomon,  we 
know,  wrote  a  Flora  that  embraced  everything, 
from  the  lordly  cedar  to  the  lowly  hyssop  on  the 
wall.  In  this  probably  he  dealt  with  the  healing 
virtues  of  the  plants  ;  at  all  events,  such  men  as 
Gerard,  Parkinson,  and  the  other  old  herbalists, 
who  took  this  ground  themselves,  naturally  assumed 
that  their  prototype  did  so  too.  Gerard  says  : 
"  The  roots  are  excellent  good  for  to  scale  or  close 
up  greene  wounds,  being  stamped  and  laid  thereon  : 
wherefore  it  is  called  Sigillum  Salomonis,  of  the 
singular  vertue  that  it  hath  in  sealing  or  healing  vp 
wounds,  broken  bones,  and  such-like.  The  root  of 
Solomon's  Seale,  stamped  while  it  is  freshe  and 
greene  and  applied,  taketh  away  in  one  night,  or 
two  at  the  most,  any  bruise,  blacke  or  blew  spots 
gotten  by  falls  orwomens  wilfulnesse  in  stumbling 
upon  their  hasty  husband's  fists.  That  which 
might  be  written  of  this  herbe  as  touching  the 


78  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

knitting  of  bones,  and  that  truely,  would  seeme 
vnto  some  incredible  :  but  common  experience 
teacheth  that  in  the  world  there  is  not  to  be  found 
another  herbe  comparable  vnto  it  for  the  pur- 
poses aforesaid." r  If,  then,  we  can  assume  two 
things — that  the  plant  is  of  immense  healing  and 
sealing  virtue,  and  that  Solomon  in  his  wisdom 
discovered  this  and  made  it  known,  or  was  at 
least  held  to  have  done  so,  we  may  be  content 
to  let  them  serve  as  our  explanation.  It  seems 
very  possible  that  the  latter  half  of  the  word  was 
suggested  by  the  bunches  of  seals  that  were  some- 
times worn,  pendant  like  the  flower  clusters. 

The  stitchwort,  one  of  the  most  characteristic 
flowers  of  May,  will  ordinarily  be  found  in  pro- 
fusion in  the  hedgerows.  It  is  of  a  very  light  and 
delicate  nature,  yet  it  seems  well  able  to  hold  its  own 
in  the  general  struggle  for  existence.  Its  flowers 
are  of  a  pure  white  colour,  and  are  hence  very  con- 
spicuous, as  they  star  the  verdant  banks  with  their 
abundant  blossoms. 

In  Tusser's  "  Fiue  Hundred  Pointes  of  Good 
Husbandrie"  many  plants  are  commended  for 
cultivation.  Some,  as  "  lettice,  cresies,  sorrell," 

1  Another  old  writer  declares  that  for  the  staunching  of 
blood  it  is  sufficient  to  hold  some  Solomon's-seal  in  one's  hand 
till  it  grow  warm  there,  or  longer  if  need  be."  This  latter 
stipulation  would  probably  frequently  be  of  necessary 
employment. 


USES  OF  PLANTS  79 

are  for  "sallets":  others,  as  "  beanes,  cabbagis, 
goordes,  parseneps,"  are  "herbes  and  rootes  to 
boile "  :  others  are  "  strewing  herbes "  for  the 
chamber  floor,  and  these  include  such  fragrant 
plants  as  "  bassel,  baulme,  sweete  fennell,  and 
lauender."  Others  again  are  for  the  still,  or 
"  necessarie  herbes  to  growe  for  Physick,"  while 
yet  another  section  is  devoted  to  "  herbes  for 
windowes  and  pots,"  and  these,  though  many  of 
them  were  held  of  medicinal  value,  were  clearly 
in  this  particular  connection  primarily  chosen  for 
their  attractiveness.  Amongst  these  appeals  to  the 
aesthetic  we  find  "  collembines,  cousleps,  daffadon- 
dillies,  panncies,  lillium  cum  valium,"  and  many 
others,  one  ambition  set  before  the  reader  being 
to  grow  "holiokes,"  a  rather  formidable  under- 
taking as  a  pot-flower  for  one's  window-sill. 

The  lillium  cum  valium,  often  called  by  old  writers 
the  lily  convally  and  the  May  lily,  is  the  plant  we 
nowadays  call  the  lily  of  the  valley,1  but  to  see  this 
at  its  best  we  must  seek  it  in  its  woodland  home.2 
It  is  abundant  enough  in  some  of  our  counties, 
though  rare  elsewhere.  Gerard,  we  see,  writing 
in  1633,  says  that  "it  groweth  upon  Hampstead 

1  "  The  sweet  lily  of  the  lowly  vale, 
The  queen  of  flowers." 

KEATS. 

2  Botanically  it  is  the  Convallaria  majalis,  the  generic  name 
signifying  a  dweller  in  the  valley,  the  specific  name  indicating 
May  as  its  flowering  season, 


80  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

heath,  foure  miles  from  London,  in  great  abund- 
ance," but  the  ever-growing  metropolis  has  long 
since  filled  up  this  intervening  space,  and  any 
search  for  May  lilies  in  this  direction  is  now  a 
quite  hopeless  quest.  The  flower  is  a  good  deal 
forced  by  the  florists  in  these  latter  days,  but  these 
larger  blossoms,  with  the  sickly  green  attendant 
foliage,  lack  the  charm  of  those  grown  naturally, 
and,  possessing  a  noble  mass  of  them  in  a  sheltered 
corner,  we  are  well  content  to  wait  until  such  time 
as  Nature  gives  the  impulse,  and  the  fragrant 
blossoms  peep  forth  from  the  sheathing  and  pro- 
tecting leaves,  to  be  followed  in  turn  by  the  crimson 
berries. 

Our  ancestors  held  the  flowers  a  specific  for  "the 
paine  and  griefe  of  the  goute,"  a  decoction  of  them 
being  outwardly  applied.  This  one  mediaeval 
enthusiast  declared  to  be  "  most  excellent,"  while 
another  calls  it  aqua  aurea — golden  water  ;  others 
distilled  the  flowers  with  wine,  for  the  restoration 
of  speech  "vnto  those  that  have  the  dum  palsie 
and  that  are  fallen  into  the  apoplexie  " ;  while  the 
flowers  being  dried  and  burnt,  either  by  the  fume 
or  the  scattering  of  their  ashes,  were  of  magical 
potency  to  drive  from  the  dwelling  all  evil  spirits. 

To  the  Nature-loving  wanderers  far  away  from 
home  the  sight  of  some  well-remembered  plant  of 
the  old  home  is  a  great  delight.  Sometimes  one 
encounters  specimens  that  are  only  strongly  re- 


XIII. 


To  fact-  page 


SALSIFY    and    OX  EYE. 


OLD  FRIENDS  IN  DISTANT  LANDS        81 

semblant  of  those  of  the  English  country-side,  but 
at  other  times  the  real  thing.  What  we  call  our 
English  plants  are  naturally  often  found  over  a 
considerably  larger  area  than  that  of  these  little 
British  Islands,  and  some,  in  fact,  are  cosmopoli- 
tan. We  have  lately  seen  a  list  of  plants  that  was 
compiled  by  a  traveller  on  the  Amoor,  and  not  only 
did  he  encounter  an  abundant  store  of  things  wholly 
unknown  in  England,  but  such  familiar  wild  flowers 
as  the  lily  of  the  valley,  strawberry,  dandelion, 
daffodil,  celandine,  snowdrop,  ox-eye,  and  the  red 
and  white  clovers,  while  in  another  far-away 
locality — Baluchistan — we  find  amongst  other 
flowers  well  known  to  us  at  home  the  colum- 
bine, watercress,  shepherd's  purse,  stork's-bill,  the 
red  and  white  clover  again,  blackberry,  hawthorn, 
fennel,  chicory,  sowthistle,  toadflax,  pimpernel, 
henbit,  and  round-leaved  mallow. 

In  many  lands  the  plants  we  recognise  as  British 
are  not  indigenous ;  their  arrival  has  been  one  of 
the  unintended  results  of  colonisation  or  commer- 
cial intercourse.  When  railways  were  first  intro- 
duced into  Japan  it  was  found  well  to  sow  grass 
seed  imported  from  England  to  bind  the  soil 
together  on  the  embankments  and  in  the  cuttings  ; 
with  this  came  the  seeds  of  various  wild  plants,  and 
many  of  these,  as  the  daisy,  buttercup,  dandelion, 
have  settled  down  quite  happily  in  their  alien 
surroundings.  In  1837  the  botanists  of  the 

6 


82  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

United  States  recognised  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
seven  plants  as  introductions  from  foreign  countries, 
principally  from  England,  but  this  number  has  now 
more  than  doubled.  Chickweed  was  introduced  by 
a  bird-fancier :  in  ten  years  it  had  spread  in  all 
directions  over  fifty  miles  from  the  little  hamlet 
in  South  Carolina  where  it  started,  and  is  now 
hopelessly  irremovable.1  It  is  rather  striking,  too, 
that  these  British  plants  often  attain  to  a  greater 
vigour  in  congenial  foreign  countries  than  at  home, 
the  imported  thistles  in  Australia  and  America 
thriving  with  an  excess  of  vigour  that  the  un- 
sympathetic landowner  bitterly  regrets.  A  New 
Zealand  correspondent  tells  that  he  has  seen 
thistledown  lying  in  some  places  a  foot  in  depth 
on  newly  cleared  forest  land,  while  the  watercress 
and  brooklime  seriously  threaten  to  divert  the 
courses  of  the  rivers.  Furze,  broom,  sweetbriar, 
blackberry,  all  plants  that  we  can  here  keep  well 
under  control,  are  in  the  Southern  Hemisphere  very 
expensive  to  keep  down.  Shepherd's  purse,  hore- 
hound,  willow  herb,  ox-eye  daisy,  mouse-ear,  chick- 
weed,  and  numerous  other  plants  are  all  settling 
down,  while  the  English  wild  flowers,  such  as  the 

1  A  friend  near  Sydney  asked  us  to  send  him  some 
dandelion  seed,  as  he  had  had  the  plant  so  highly  com- 
mended medicinally,  but  we  declined  the  responsibility  of 
starting  millions  of  dandelion  seed-heads  blowing  over 
Australia. 


DAISY  GROWING  83 

daisy,  primrose,  harebell,  cowslip,  and  hyacinth  are, 
for  old  association's  sake,  welcomed  in  the  gardens 
of  many  a  New  Zealand  home. 

It  may  appear  to  our  readers  that  to  cultivate  a 
daisy  is  driving  a  hobby  rather  hard,  but  happily 
the  point  has  never  arisen  in  our  experience,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  the  fair  wildling  comes 
unbidden,  but  is  none  the  less  welcome.  The 
"  wee,  modest,  crimson-tipped  flower "  may  seem 
a  blemish  to  the  martinet  gardener,  as  it  gems 
his  verdant  turf,1  but  we  do  not  grow  that  sort  of 
gardener,  and  those  who  come  into  our  domain 
must  accept  us,  hobbies  and  all. 

The  daisy  is  pre-eminently  the  flower  of  the 
poets.  Burns  sings  of  the  "  Sheets  o'  daisies 
white,"  and  over  and  over  again  dwells  on  their 
charm.  Wordsworth  compares  the  daisy  to  "  a 
silver  shield  with  boss  of  gold,"  to  "a  queen  in 
crown  of  rubies  drest,"  to  "a  little  Cyclop  with  one 
eye,"  to  "a  nun  demure  of  lowly  port,"  while  both 
Milton  and  Shakespeare  write  of  the  "  daisies 
pied."2  Pied  in  the  old  writers  is  a  word  used 
to  express  a  sharp  contrast  of  colour,  as  in  the 

1  "Daisies,  ye  flowers  of  lowly  birth, 
Embroid'rers  of  the  carpet  earth, 
That  stud  the  velvet  sod/' 

CLARE. 

'  Thus  Shakespeare  in  the  "  Tempest "  uses  the  epithet 
"  pied-ninny/'  as  being  equivalent  to  jester  or  fool,  from  the 
gay  parti-coloured  clothes  of  the  professed  fool. 


84  OUR  BOCK-GARDEN 

black  and  white  plumage  of  the  magpie.  Shake- 
speare sees  the  contrast  in  the  bright  yellow  boss 
as  contrasted  with  the  pure  white  rays  that  sur- 
round it,  while  Milton  sees  it  in  the  verdant  mead 
besprinkled  over  with  the  daisies. 

The  name  daisy  is  a  corruption  of  the  original 
day's-eye — a  name  bestowed  upon  it  from  the 
expansion  of  the  flower-heads  in  the  daytime  and 
their  closing  at  night.1  Chaucer's  love  of  nature 
is  manifested  everywhere  in  his  writings,  and  the 
lowly  daisy  was  to  him — 

"  Of  all  floures  the  floure, 
Fulfilled  of  all  vertue  and  honoure, 
And  ever  alike  faire  and  fresh  of  hewe, 
As  well  in  winter  as  in  summer  newe." 

He  tells  us  that  "when  commen  is  the  Maie  "  his 
delight  is  at  early  dawn  to  seek  the  meadows  "  to 
see  this  floure  against  the  sunne  sprede,"  having 
already  noted  how  with  the  setting  sun — 

"This  floure  how  it  will  go  to  rest, 
For  fear  of  night,  so  hateth  she  darkness." 

Over  and  over  again  in  his  writings  we  see  a  very 
special  regard  for  this  little  flower. 

In  France  the  daisy  is  the  marguerite  ;  hence  it 
has  been  chosen  by  those  of  highest  estate  as  an 

1  "The  little  dazie  that  at  evening  closes." — SPENSER. 


DAISY  APPRECIATION  85 

emblem.  Louis  the  Ninth  of  France  took  this  flower 
as  his  device  in  honour  of  his  beloved  consort 
Marguerite,  wearing  a  ring  of  fleurs-de-lis  and 
daisies  entwined,  with  the  inscription,  "What  we 
cherish,"  the  fleur-de-lis  standing  for  his  devotion 
to  la  belle  France,  the  daisy  his  affection  for  la  belle 
Marguerite.  Margaret  of  Anjou,  the  wife  of  our 
King  Henry  VI.,  also  bore  the  daisy,  little  as  it 
suited  her  imperious  nature,  as  her  device.  Drayton 
tells  how  the  nobles  thronged  to  meet  her  when 
she  landed  at  Southampton,  and  how  each  and 
all  wore  her  cognisance — 

uOf  either  sex  who  doth  now  delight 
To  wear  the  daisy  for  queen  Marguerite  ? " 

Prosaic  as  it  may  appear  after  sentiments  so  poetic, 
associations  so  regal  "the  iuyce  of  the  leaves  given 
to  little  dogs  with  milk  keepeth  them  from  growing 
great."  Victims  "to  all  kinde  of  paines,  but 
especially  in  the  ioynts,"  gouty  folk,  people 
troubled  with  "  naughtie  humours "  (of  physical, 
not  moral,  origin),  bruises l  or  swellings  of  all 
kindes,  all  resort  in  earlier  days  to  this  little  plant 
for  alleviation  of  their  various  ailments. 

Readers  of  Chaucer  will  recall  his  delight  to  sally 
forth  on  the  bright  May  mornings  to  see  the  open- 
ing   daisies    unfolding    in    the   sunlight,    and   this 
1  Hence  an  old  name  was  bruise  wort, 


86  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

reminds  us  that  amongst  our  ancestors  the  gather- 
ing of  the  May-dew  was  another  reward  for  early 
rising,  as  it  was  supposed  to  be  of  special  virtue. 
A  quite  other  chronicler,  the  gossiping  Pepys,  tells 
us  in  his  Diary,  under  the  date  May  n,  1669: 
"Troubled  about  three  in  the  morning  with  my  wife's 
calling  her  maid  up  and  rising  herself  to  go  with 
her  coach  abroad  to  gather  May-dew,  which  she  did, 
and  I  troubled  for  it,  for  fear  of  any  hurt,  going 
abroad  so  betimes,  happening  to  her,  but  I  to  sleep 
again,  and  she  home  about  six."  The  journey  was  so 
far  a  success  that  a  fortnight  afterwards  we  find 
Mrs.  Pepys  "away  down  to  Woolwich  in  order 
to  little  ayre,  and  to  lie  there  to-night,  and  so 
gather  May-dew  to-morrow  morning,  which  Mrs. 
Turner  hath  taught  her  is  the  only  thing  in  the 
world  to  wash  her  face  with,  and  I  am  contented 
with  it."  It  was  held  that  special  virtues  attached 
to  that  gathered  from  particular  plants ;  thus,  for 
example,  Sir  Hugh  Platt r  tells  us  that  the  dew 
that  was  collected  from  fennel  or  celandine  was 
specially  good  for  brightening  the  eyes. 

The    ox-eye    is    another   plant   that   we   gladly 
cultivate.     It   is,   as   most   of    our   readers    know, 

1  "  Delights  for  Ladies,  to  adorn  their  Persons,  Tables, 
Closets,  and  Distillatories ;  with  Beauties,  banquets,  per- 
fumes, and  Waters."  The  book  was  "dedicated  to  all 
true  lovers  of  Arte  and  Knowledge,"  and  was  published  in 
1602. 


XIV, 


PINK     BINDWEED. 


To  face  page  <S6. 


PLANT  NOMENCLATURE  87 

a  magnified  version  of  the  little  daisy  that  we 
have  been  dealing  with,  having  the  same  golden 
central  boss,  the  same  pure  white  surrounding  rays. 
It  will  be  found  figured  on  Plate  XIII.  It  is 
common  enough  in  the  long  grass  of  the  meadows 
before  hay-making  time,  and  on  the  railway 
embankments,  but  its  abundance  makes  it  none 
the  less  welcome.  Pechey,  we  see  in  his  "  Com- 
pleat  Herbal,"  1694,  declares  that  "a  Decoction  of 
the  Herb  cures  all  Diseases  that  are  occasioned  by 
drinking  cold  Beer  when  the  Body  is  hot,"  so  that 
the  injudiciously  bibulous,  and  those  numerous  folk 
who  have  the  troublesome  habit  of  asking  what  is 
the  good  of  everything — to  whom  the  beauty  of  the 
plant  is  not  a  sufficient  end — may  regard  it  now  with 
greater  interest  and  favour.  The  ox-eye  was  held 
to  be  an  excellent  healer  of  wounds,  and  a  very 
present  remedy  of  difficulty  of  breathing.  It  is  a 
particularly  easy  plant  to  grow,  and  when  planted 
in  a  goodly  clump  the  large  radiate  flower-heads  tell 
out  brilliantly  from  the  midst  of  the  surrounding 
verdure.  The  name  ox-eye  is  one  example  the 
more  of  the  popular  desire  to  trace  a  resemblance 
between  almost  anything  and  some  other  thing 
that  is  really  radically  different  in  nature  from  it ; 
thus  in  the  great  starry  vault  of  heaven,  in  the 
midst  of  unfathomable,  unimaginable  space, 
Charles's  wain  may  be  seen,  though  who  Charles 
was,  and  what  his  entirely  incongruous  wagon 


88  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

is  doing  up  there,  nobody  knows  or  cares,  while 
a  waterfall,  sufficiently  beautiful  in  itself,  has  to 
many  people  a  greatly  added  charm  when  held  to 
be  reminiscent  of  a  bridal  veil.  Most  people  like 
to  feel  that  they  are  folk  of  rather  exceptional 
penetration,  and  to  detect  that  little  Mary  aged 
three  is  the  very  image  of  her  uncle  John,  aged 
eighty-one,  affords  them  an  immense  gratification  : 
very  naturally,  therefore,  plant-names  dealing  with 
comparison  and  suggested  resemblance  form  a  very- 
large  class.  The  man  who  first  detected  any  like- 
ness between  the  eye  of  an  ox  and  the  expanded 
florets  of  the  plant  before  us,  and  saddled  the  flower 
with  a  name  so  barbaric,  must  either  have  been 
gifted  with  a  specially  strong  imagination,  or  possibly 
we  may  decide  on  fuller  consideration,  a  particularly 
weak  one. 

The  two  alkanets  should  find  a  place  in  our 
garden.  The  so-called  common  alkanet  is  one  of 
our  rarer  British  plants,  and  has  but  little  claim  to 
a  place  in  our  flora.  It  is  the  Anchusa  officinalis  of 
the  botanist,  and  it  is  just  this  officinal  character  that 
has  brought  it  to  our  shores  in  earlier  days.1  It 
may  be  found  on  waste  ground  occasionally,  and 

1  "  It  is  an  herb  under  the  dominion  of  Venus,  and  indeed 
one  of  her  darlings,  though  somewhat  hard  to  come  by.  It 
helps  old  ulcers,  hot  inflammations,  burnings  by  common  fire 
and  by  St.  Anthony's  fire,  by  antipathy  to  Mars  :  for  these 
uses  your  best  way  is  to  make  it  into  an  ointment :  also  if  you 
make  a  vinegar  of  it  it  helps  the  leprosy." — CULPEPPER. 


THE  ALKANETS  89 

more  especially  in  our  northern  and  eastern  districts. 
Dioscorides  and  other  venerable  authorities  held  it 
good  as  an  antidote  against  the  bites  and  stings  of 
noxious  and  venomous  things.  As  our  ancestors 
had  a  morbid  terror  of  such  attacks  from  the  adder, 
shrew-mouse,  spider,  scorpion,  and  other  creatures, 
the  alkanet  was  held  by  them  in  high  esteem.  Its 
name  is  Greek  in  its  origin,  and  refers  to  its  sup- 
posed constringent  power.  The  somewhat  bitter 
root  was,  according  to  Parkinson,1  "  thereby  fit  both 
to  condensate  the  thinne  humours  in  the  body  and 
to  extenuate  those  that  are  thicke,  and  as  well  to 
cleanse  the  chollericke  as  to  wash  the  salt  humours 
therein."  "  The  oyntment  that  is  made  with  a  pint 
of  good  sallet  oyle,  wherein  two  ounces  of  the  rootes 
of  alkanet  and  twenty  earthworms  hath  beene  boyled 
and  afterward  strayned  forth  and  kept  in  a  pot,  is  a 
singular  good  salve  to  use  for  any  fresh  wounds, 
made  either  crosse  the  flesh,  or  deepe  thrusts  there- 
into, as  also  where  nerves  and  sinewes  are,  to  con- 
solidate and  knit  them  againe.  Workemen  of  all 
sorts,  that  use  sharpe  and  pointed  tooles,  ought  to 
have  it  familiar  among  them,  to  use  upon  all 
occasiones  of  harme."  The  flowers  are  very 
attractive  to  bees  and  other  insects. 

Our  second   alkanet,  the  Anchusa  sempervirens, 
which  we  have  figured  on  Plate  VI.,  is  a  particularly 

1  Or  according  to  a  dozen  other  old  writers,  as  they  all 
copied  from  each  other. 


90  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

charming  plant.  We  have  it  fully  in  flower  in  May 
and  June ;  its  stems,  some  two  to  three  feet  long, 
carrying  a  mass  of  brilliant  blossoms.  As  the 
flowers  are  of  a  rich,  pure  blue,  a  somewhat  unusual 
colour,  it  is  a  very  desirable  plant  to  have  in  one's 
rock-garden.  It  is  one  of  our  rarer  plants,  but  once 
established  it  spreads  freely,  and  springs  up  sturdily, 
year  after  year,  without  need  of  any  attention.  The 
evergreen  character  of  its  broad,  ovate  foliage  is 
another  feature  in  its  favour.  It  appears  to  be 
truly  wild  in  the  south-western  counties,  but  we 
have  met  with  it  in  Sussex  and  elsewhere.  Our 
particular  plant  came  years  ago  from  a  kindly 
friend  who  dug  it  up  for  our  benefit  in  a  wood  near 
Clifton,  but  it  has  increased  mightily,  and  we  in  turn 
have  had  the  pleasure  of  sending  offshoots  of  it  far 
and  wide. 

One  may  occasionally  see  in  cultivation  an  allied 
species,  the  Anchusa  tinctoria — a  plant  much  grown 
on  the  Continent  for  the  value  of  its  root  as  a  dyeing 
material.  Many  tons  are  imported  into  Britain 
each  year  for  various  trade  purposes,  one  of  the 
least  legitimate  being  its  use  as  a  colouring 
material  in  the  fabrication  of  so-called  port  wine. 


CHAPTER   IV 

Museum  facilities  for  the  identification  of  plants — The  Star  of 
Bethlehem — Dame  d'onze  heures — The  greater  and  lesser 
periwinkles — Live  and  let  live — Sorcerer's  herb — The 
"  Historic  of  Plants,  set  forth  from  the  Almaigne  toong  " — 
The  columbine,  or  culverwort — Lion's-tooth — The  u  Para- 
disus  "  of  Parkinson — Red  valerian — The  fragrant  garlic 
— The  mariner's  defence — Our  rampant  stray-berries — 
The  "  Via  Recta  "  of  Venner — Our  various  geraniums — 
The  Doctrine  of  Signatures — Celandine — The  mystical 
vervain. 

IN  some  of  our  provincial  museums  it  has  become 
an  excellent  custom  to  make  collections  of 
living  wild  plants,  placing  them  in  bottles  of 
water,  and  naming  them.1  It  is  very  pleasant  to  see 
the  attention  they  receive  from  the  visitors,  some  of 
whom  bring  with  them  fresh  plants  to  add  to  the 

1  The  Corporation  Museum  at  Brighton  has  done  this 
notably  well  for  some  years.  There  are  museums  and 
museums.  In  the  museum  of  another  popular  seaside  resort 
on  the  South  Coast  we  saw  exhibited  in  one  glass  case  three 
Greek  vases,  the  horn  of  a  narwhal,  the  saucer  used  by 
Nelson  on  the  morning  of  his  death,  a  Babylonian  stamped 
brick,  and  a  mummified  fish  !  The  over-broad  classification 
that  can  group  together  things  so  incongruous  seems  to  call 
for  reconsideration. 

91 


92  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

store,  or  to  verify  by  comparison.  It  is,  we  need 
scarcely  say,  the  essence  of  such  an  arrangement 
that  it  should  be  in  the  hands  of  a  curator  at  once 
enthusiastic  and  accurate.1  In  one  museum  which 
we  have  visited,  the  plants  are  in  a  corridor  between 
the  entrance  and  the  main  building,  the  result  being 
that  mischievous  boys  shift  the  labels  about,  and  the 
educational  value  of  the  collection  is  hopelessly 
spoilt,  it  being  entirely  useless  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance in  the  morning  of  what  the  label  calls  a  poppy,  to 
find  that  later  on  it  is  an  ox-eye,  and  towards  evening 
has  become  a  foxglove.  Plants  can'  be  so  readily 
sent  in  tin  canisters  or  boxes  that  we  give  our- 
selves the  pleasure  of  forwarding  to  curators  speci- 
mens for  their  water-bottles,  thus  introducing  the 
alkanets  and  such-like  scarcer  plants  to  hundreds 
who  might  otherwise  never  come  across  them. 
Another  interesting  Spring  plant  which  we  welcome 
in  our  rock-garden  is  the  Star  of  Bethlehem — the 
Ornithogalum  umbellatum.  Though  fairly  established 
in  pasture-land  in  some  parts  of  England,  it  is  not 
really  a  native.  Its  large  white  flowers,  clustered 
together  at  the  ends  of  the  long  stems,  are  very 

1  Amongst  a  number  of  gatherings  that  we  took  to  one  of 
these  museum  collections  were  specimens  of  chamomile  and 
ox-eye  daisy.  Both  were  put  by  the  curator  into  one  bottle 
and  labelled  "  Corn  feverfew,  Chrysanthemum  segetum." 
They  could  not  both  be  feverfew.  They  were  neither  of 
them  feverfew.  If  they  had  been  feverfew  they  would  not 
have  been  Chrysanthemum  segetum. 


XV. 


yi^f  V 


INULA    MONTANA    and    INULA    HELENIUM. 


To  face  page 


THE  PERIWINKLES  93 

conspicuous.  The  perianth  segments  spread  out 
into  a  sharply  pointed  stellate  form,  the  pure  white 
of  their  general  surface  being  varied  by  a  central 
line  of  strong  green.  The  leaves,  all  springing 
directly  from  the  ground,  are  of  the  narrow  linear 
form  that  we  see  also  in  its  companions,  the  daffodils 
and  hyacinths.  The  plant  rises  from  a  bulb  that  is 
somewhat  deeply  bedded  in  the  ground,  so  that 
some  considerable  care  is  needed  if  we  would  dig 
it  up  ;  we  have  time  after  time  found  that  we  have 
sliced  the  bulbs  in  our  attempts  to  move  them.  In 
France  it  is  the  dame  d'onze  heures,  since  it  opens 
its  blossoms  considerably  later  than  most  flowers 
and  in  dull  weather  declines  to  expand  them  at  all. 

The  two  periwinkles  must  not  be  overlooked, 
though  the  larger  one — the  Vinca  major — has  great 
running  powers,  and  asserts  its  right  to  overrun  and 
suffocate  everything  it  comes  in  contact  with.  It 
must  therefore  be  placed  where  it  can  spread  freely 
without  depriving  neighbours  of  the  air,  sunshine, 
and  the  other  elements  of  their  well-being  in  its  too 
vigorous  assertion  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest. 
The  smaller  periwinkle — V.  minor — is  more  amen- 
able to  fair  play — the  live  and  let  live  principle1 
— and  may  be  welcomed  where  the  other  would  be 

1  A  quaint  illustration  of  this  principle  may  be  seen  in  the 
case  of  two  neighbours  of  ours — fishmongers.  The  smaller 
man,  in  danger  of  being  swamped  by  the  other,  painted  over 
his  dwindling  stock  of  little  dead  fishes  this  inscription  : 
44  Live  and  let  live." 


94  OUR  ROCK-GAKDEN 

out  of  place.  In  each  kind  the  flower  is  of  a 
lilac-blue,  larger  or  smaller  in  size  according  to 
the  species.  Chaucer  and  other  old  poets  call  the 
plant  pervinke,  the  name,  like  our  modern  periwinkle, 
being  from  the  monkish  Latin  pervinca,  which  in 
turn  was  derived  from  the  Latin  words  per 
and  vincire,  to  bind  about.  Some  would  tell  us 
that  the  name  arose  from  the  use  of  the  plant  in 
garlands,  but  such  an  employment  of  the  plant  is 
scarcely  monastic,  nor  is  it  a  flower  of  sufficient 
brilliancy  and  attractiveness  to  suggest  such  a  festal 
use.  We  may  more  readily  accept  the  second 
explanation — a  suggestion  obvious  enough  to  those 
who  found  a  place  for  it  in  the  herb-garden  of  the 
monastery,  that  its  long  stems,  all-embracing,  made 
its  name  of  binding  plant  specially  appropriate.  In 
Italy  it  is  true  that  at  the  present  day  it  is  called 
the  flower  of  death — Fior  di  Morto — since  it  is  used 
to  deck  the  bier  of  dead  infants,  while  in  France  it 
is  the  Violette  des  Sorciers,  certain  magical  qualities 
being  popularly  ascribed  to  it. 


"Parvenke  is  an  erbe  grene  of  colour; 
In  tyme  of  May  he  beryth  bio  flour. 
His  stalkys  are  so  feynt  and  feye, 
That  never  more  groweth  he  h  ye. 
On  the  grownde  he  rennyth  and  growe, 
As  doth  the  erbe  that  hyth  tunhowe, 
The  lef  is  thicke,  schinende  and  styf, 
As  is  the  grene  ivy  leef." 


THE  VIRTUES  OF  PERIWINKLE          95 

We  occasionally  find  the  two  periwinkles  with 
variegated  leaves,  but  this  is  either  a  natural  sport 
or,  more  ordinarily,  a  not  altogether  desirable  bit  of 
interference  of  the  florists. 

In  our  copy  of  the  "  Historic  of  Plants "  of 
Dodoens'  edition  of  1586,  "  set  forth  from  the 
Douch  or  Almaigne  toong  into  English  by 
Lyte,"  we  find  several  "vertues"  ascribed  to  the 
"peruincle"  from  the  healing  of  "the  stinging  of 
venomous  beasts "  down  to  toothache.  Anything 
that  was  a  specific  for  the  poison  of  a  tiger  or  the 
sting  of  a  lion  would  clearly  be  of  immense  value  to 
explorers,  and  if  our  home-grown  pangs  of  toothache 
could  be  alleviated  it  would,  on  the  principle  of  the 
greatest  happiness  of  the  largest  number  being  of 
prime  importance,  be  of  even  more  value. 

The  two  periwinkles  have  a  certain  astringency 
that  has  made  them  acceptable  in  the  rustic  flora 
medica,  though  they  occupy  no  place  in  the 
professional  pharmacopoeia.  An  ointment  from  the 
leaves  is  largely  used,  the  fresh  tops  of  the  flower- 
ing stems  being  chopped  and  set  simmering  in  a 
pipkin  with  some  lard. 

The  columbine  is  a  flower  that  we  grow  freely,  as, 
whether  we  find  it  a  mass  of  blossom  or  a  rosette  of 
foliage,  it  is  alike  pleasing,  and  even  after  the  flowers 
have  passed  away  the  quaint  seed-vessels  that 
succeed  them  have  an  interest  of  their  own.  In 
the  hands  of  the  gardener  it  is  a  plant  that  has 


96  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

proved  itself  very  plastic,  a  great  variety  of  colour 
being  obtainable,1  while  in  some  the  spurs  are  de- 
veloped to  an  extraordinary  length.  Gerard,  in  his 
"Historic  of  Plants" — our  edition  bears  the  date 
1633 — describes  many  varieties,  "as  nature  list  of 
to  play,"  while  Parkinson  in  his  "Paradisus,"  pub- 
lished in  1629,  declares  that  "  there  are  many  sorts 
of  columbines,  as  well  differing  in  forme  as  colour 
of  the  flowers,  and  of  them  both  single  and  double 
carefully  noursed  up  in  our  gardens,  for  the  delight 
both  of  their  forme  and  colours."  The  enterprise 
of  the  horticulturists  in  this  direction  is  therefore  no 
new  thing.  The  columbine  appears  to  be  really  a 
plant  of  the  woods  of  Southern  Europe,  but  it  has 
for  centuries  been  naturalised  with  us.  Though 
popular  as  a  cottage-garden  flower  and  therefore  at 
times  under  suspicion  of  being  an  escape  from 
cultivation,  we  have  found  it  in  localities  far  remote 
from  human  dwellings,  and  where  it  was  an  un- 
doubted wildling.  The  plant  was  sometimes  held 
a  symbol  of  grief.  Thus,  in  Brown's  "  British 
Pastorals  "  we  find  the  lines  : — 


"The  columbine,  by  lonely  wanderer  taken, 
Is  then  ascribed  to  such  as  are  forsaken." 


1  Those  who  care  to  add  these  cultivated  forms  to  their 
collection  will  find  the  following  of  value :  Aquilegia 
chrysantha,  A.  calif ornica,  A.  glandulosa,  A.  Skinneri.  The 
first  of  these  has  bright  yellow  flowers  ;  in  the  second  they  are 


THE  COLUMBINE  97 

This  would  possibly  be  on  account  of  the  deep 
purple  of  the  flowers,  that  colour  throughout  the 
Middle  Ages  being  associated  with  the  idea  of 
mourning.  On  the  other  hand,  Drayton  crowns 
his  lady  fair,  as  a  symbol  of  rejoicing,  with  "  a 
goodly  chaplet  of  azured  columbine " ;  while 
Spenser  cries,  "  Bring  hither  the  pink  and  purple 
columbine."  This  flower  is  rather  a  favourite  with 
Spenser.  In  his  "  Garden  of  Beauty,"  after  dwell- 
ing on  the  ruddy  cheeks  and  wondrous  eyes  of  the 
fair  one,  he  goes  on  to  compare,  though  one  scarcely 
sees  why,  "  Her  neck,  like  to  a  bunch  of  collum- 
bines." 

The  columbine  derives  its  name  from  the  Latin 
word  columba,  a  pigeon,  as  the  flowers  strongly 
resemble  a  cluster  of  birds,  while  its  older  name 
of  culverwort  is,  in  like  manner,  from  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  culfre,  a  pigeon.  In  its  botanical  name  this 
ornithological  suggestion  still  obtains,  but  here  it  is 
Aquilegid)  from  the  Latin  word  aquila,  an  eagle. 
It  may  at  first  seem  strange  that  the  familiar  name 
of  a  common  English  plant  should  be  derived  from 
a  Greek  or  Latin  source,  but  it  must  be  borne  in 
mind  that  the  ecclesiastics  in  mediaeval  times  were 
not  only  the  scholars  of  the  period,  keeping  alive 
the  knowledge  of  the  classic  tongues,  but  were  also 
the  "  leeches  "  ministering  through  their  knowledge 

red  and  yellow  ;  in  the  third  blue  and  white,  while  in  the  last 
they  are  green  and  red.    There  are  many  other  forms. 

7 


98  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

of  herbs  to  the  bodies  as  well  as  the  souls  of  their 
flocks.  The  patient  learned  the  monkish  name  and 
adopted  it.  The  French  names J  are  equally  readily 
accounted  for,  as  they  are  evident  survivals  from 
the  days  of  the  Normans  and  Plantagenets.  A 
medicinal  value  was  at  one  time  ascribed  to  the 
columbine,  as  indeed  to  almost  everything  else, 
but  this  reputation,  which  was  considerable,  has 
not  borne  the  test  of  experience. 

The  increased  attention  paid  in  schools  to  nature- 
knowledge  in  these  latter  days  should  presently  bear 
fruit.  We  were  rather  startled  awhile  ago  when  a 
country  child  brought  us  what  she  called  columbine, 
but  which  was  really  red-berried  bryony.  Perhaps 
she  was  aware  that  the  climbing  stems  of  the  hop 
are  popularly  called  bine,  and,  recognising  that  the 
bryony  too  was  a  climber,  she  concluded  that  it  was 
the  column-bine.  Children  go  very  largely  by  sound, 
and  the  result  is  not  always  a  success.2  The  need 

1  Thus  the  dandelion  is  really  the  dent-de-lion,  though  why 
it  should  be  called  the  lion's-tooth  is  not  very  apparent.     In 
heraldry,  no  matter  what  colour  the  lion  introduced  in  the 
arms  may  be,  the  teeth  and  claws  should  be  of  gold  ;  hence 
some  see  in  the  golden  heads  of  the  dandelion,  with  their 
jagged  florets,  a  sufficient  justification  of  the  name.     Others 
tell  us  that  the  form  of  the  leaf  resembles  the  sharply  pointed 
and  curving  teeth   of    the  lion.     Its   older  generic   name, 
Leontodon,  is  derived  from  the  Greek  words  for  lion  and 
tooth,  and  the  plant  bears  a  very  similar  name  in  most  of  the 
European  languages. 

2  As,  for  instance,  in  a  village  class  taking  up  nature-study, 


XVI. 


To  face  f>age  (^S. 


WALLFLOWER. 


NATURE  KNOWLEDGE  AND  ITS  LACK    99 

of  this  nature-knowledge  was  borne  in  upon  us 
when  called  upon  to  adjudicate  on  some  collections 
of  wild  flowers.  The  specimens  sent  in  had  to.  be 
named,  free  reference  to  books  or  teachers  being 
allowed,  the  result  being  that  woody  nightshade 
was  called  dead  nettle,  betony  became  bugle  pro  tern, 
selfheal  was  re-named  as  mint,  yellow  rattle  for  the 
nonce  was  hop,  valerian  was  called  yarrow,  and, 
perhaps  most  extraordinary  of  all,  the  bulbous  crow- 
foot, the  commonest  of  all  our  British  buttercups, 
was  transformed,  so  far  as  erratic  nomenclature 
could  effect  the  change,  into  a  primrose.  The 
spelling  included  such  eccentricities  as  saxifridge, 
for-get-me-not,  crainsbill,  meadow-sweat,  butercup, 
dandeloin,  tormentle,  and  hycanth. 

The  columbine  is  depicted  on  Plate  VII.,  the  right- 
hand  flower  being  the  normal  wildling,  and  the  left- 
hand  one  a  double  variety.  The  small  size  of  our 
plate  scarcely  enables  us  to  do  justice  to  the  beauty 
of  the  foliage. 

The  red  valerian,  the  Centranthus  ruber  of  the 
botanist,  is  another  plant  that  thrives  well  on  rock- 
work.  It  is  really  a  plant  of  the  Mediterranean 
basin,  but  has  for  centuries  been  thoroughly  accli- 
matised, being  found  freely  on  old  walls,  cliffs,  the 
sides  of  chalk-pits  and  railway  cuttings,  and,  especi- 

the  answer  to  the  question  "  What  is  a  rodent  animal  ?  "  was 
"  One  that  goes  on  roads."  "  What  is  anatomy  ?  "  "  That 
which  tells  us  about  gnats." 


100  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

ally,  near  the  sea.  Most  of  our  plants  of  it,  which 
grow  very  luxuriantly  in  dense  masses,  and  appear 
able  to  stand  almost  any  amount  of  subdivision, 
sprang  from  one  small  piece  that  we  dug  out  of  the 
face  of  a  cliff  at  Weston-super-Mare,  and  visitors  to 
the  Isle  of  Wight  will  recall  how  beautifully  miles 
of  the  undercliff  are  decked  with  it.  Its  flowers, 
small  in  themselves,  are  grouped  into  large  masses 
of  rich  colour,  varying  in  different  plants  from  deep 
rose-colour  to  crimson,  or,  occasionally,  white.  Its 
old  English  name  is  the  setewale  ;  thus  Chaucer, 
writing  in  the  reign  of  Edward  III.,  tells  how — 

"Ther  springen  herbes  grete  and  smale, 
The  Licoris  and  the  Setewale." 

The  idea  of  deliberately  and  of  set  purpose  plant- 
ing garlic  in  one's  garden  may  be  rather  a  shock 
to  some  of  our  readers,  but,  truly,  there  are  few 
flowers  of  the  early  Summer  more  delicately 
beautiful  as  we  see  the  white  stars  clustered  to- 
gether against  a  background  of  rock  or  foliage. 
The  ways  of  the  lover  of  wild  nature  appear  to  be 
often  found  perplexing  to  those  other  folk.  We 
were  showing  our  rock-garden  with  some  little 
pride  to  one  of  these  latter,  and  he  presently  espied 
some  fine  plants  of  the  upright  meadow  crowfoot  in 
full  bloom  rising  amidst  the  great  masses  of  fern. 
The  companion  of  my  walk  looked  at  them 
dubiously  and  then  said,  "  I  suppose  you  will 


THE  VALUE   OF  GARLIC  101 

not  let  those  stay  there?"  with  a  considerable 
emphasis  on  the  "  those,"  implying  that  the  whole 
thing  was  wild  and  uncared  for,  and  he  seemed 
somewhat  astonished  when  we  said  that  we  had 
deliberately  planted  them  there  ;  a  man,  apparently 
sane,  who  would  knowingly  set  wild  buttercups  in 
his  garden,  being  beyond  his  comprehension. 

An  old  herbalist1  tells  us  that  "the  leaves  of 
garlick  stamped  are  good  sauce  to  eat  with  fish, 
and  with  butter  in  Aprill  and  May,  being  eaten 
by  labouring  men.  It  discusses  the  inconveniences 
caused  by  minerall  vapours,  and  heals  the  jandice, 
cramps,  and  cold  diseases."  Its  strong  smell  made 
it,  according  to  Markham,  in  his  book  on  "  Hus- 
bandry," 1638,  "an  excellent  waye  to  take  Moles." 
One  merely  puts  "garlic  into  the  mouthes  of  the 
holes  and  they  will  come  out  quickely  as  amazed," 
while  yet  another  old  authority,  Buttes,  in  his 
"Table  Talke,"  published  in  1599,  declares  that 
"  Garlicke  is  of  most  speciall  vse  for  sea-faring 
men."  We  concluded  that  this  must  be  from 
some  antiscorbutic  quality,  but  we  find  it  com- 
mended as  "a  most  excellent  preservative  against 
all  infections  proceeding  from  the  nastie  sauor  of 
the  pump  or  sincke,  and  of  tainted  meates  which 
the  mariners  are  faine  to  eate  for  fault  of  better," 
the  sickening  smell  of  the  bilge  water  or  of  putrid 
beef  or  pork  being  not  removed  but  merely  over- 
1  Lovell,  writing  in  1665. 


102  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

powered  by  the  yet  more  potent  odour  of  the  garlic. 
In  like  manner  a  yet  earlier  writer,  Bartholomeus, 
says  of  garlic  that  "it  overcometh  al  other  strong 
smelles,  and  therefore  men  that  must  needes  passe 
by  foules  places,  or  make  them  clene,  arme  and 
defend  them  selfe  with  strong  sauce  of  garlyke." 
This  is  all  very  well,  and  at  least  serves  to  illustrate 
the  theory  that  when  a  dog  has  lost  his  character  he 
may  as  well  be  hung  up  at  sight,  but  no  one  need 
fear  to  introduce  the  garlic  into  his  garden  on  the 
strength  of  these  extracts.  If  one  chooses  to  bruise 
the  plant  it  gives  forth  a  strong  onion-like  odour, 
and  if  one  does  not  choose  to  do  so,  which  will 
probably  be  the  case  with  most  people,  it  is  no 
more  an  offence  to  the  super-sensitive  nose  than 
any  of  its  neighbours.  "It  helpeth  against  the 
by  ting  of  an  adder,"  and  was  held  by  our  forefathers 
to  be  of  abounding  efficacy  against  all  kinds  of 
venom,  the  bite  of  a  mad  dog,  the  sting  of  a 
scorpion,  and  the  like  perils. 

An  excellent  little  plant  to  fill  up  any  spare  room 
is  the  strawberry,  the  only  drawback  being  that  it 
sets  about  the  task  with  such  hearty  goodwill  that 
we  soon  find  it  encroaching  on  the  rights  of  its 
neighbours.  The  plant  throws  out  many  running 
stems  from  its  crown,  and  these  in  turn  root  and 
repeat  the  process  ;  hence  we  see  the  reason  of  its 
real  name,  the  stray-berry.  It  is  found  in  the 
woods,  and  seems  equally  at  home  in  Surrey  or 


STRAWBERRIES  103 

Siberia,  the  forest-clad  slopes  of  the  Atlas  and  the 
Himalayas.  The  flowers  are  sharply  cut  up  into 
five  pure-white  petals  around  a  central  mass  of 
yellow  stamens,  so  that  they  tell  out  very  effec- 
tively, and  the  crimson  fruits  that  follow  on  are 
equally  attractive  and  have  the  further  recommen- 
dation that,  whereas  the  blossoms  appeal  to  one 
sense  the  fruit  appeals  to  two.  The  leaves  are  of 
a  somewhat  deep  green  and  often  assume  a  greyish 
appearance  from  the  silky  hairs  with  which  they  are 
more  or  less  covered. 

Venner,  in  his  "  Via  recta,"  bearing  date  1650, 
declares  that  "  the  wild  or  voluntary  strawberries 
are  not  so  good  as  those  that  are  manufactured  in 
gardens,  because  they  consist  of  a  more  terrene 
nature  by  reason  whereof,  as  also  of  their  styptick 
asperity,  they  soon  offend."  That  they  are  more 
trouble  to  gather,  on  account  of  their  small  size,  than 
the  cultivated  ones  cannot  be  denied,  but  when,  as 
in  Switzerland  or  Norway,  they  are  gathered  by 
others  and  the  first  one  knows  of  them  is  their 
appearance  with  delicious  cream,  terrene  or  not, 
they  form  a  dish  by  no  means  to  be  despised.  If 
Shakespeare  tells  of  the  good  strawberries  to  be 
found  in  the  Holborn  Garden  of  my  lord  of  Ely, 
Spenser,  in  his  "  Faerie  Queene  "  introduces  us  to 
those  who  "together  went  to  the  greene  wood  to 
gather  strawberries."  The  honest  truth,  without 
prejudice  on  either  hand,  we  take  it,  is  that  wild 


104  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

strawberries   are   very  good,    and   cultivated   ones 
are  yet  better. 

The  various  species  of  wild  geraniums,  or 
crane's-bills,  will  of  necessity  find  a  place  in  our 
rock-garden,  since  no  plants  possess  a  greater 
charm,  though  the  various  stone-crops  and  saxi- 
frages run  them  hard.1  The  commonest  is  the 
herb  Robert,  and  it  is  as  beautiful  as  any  of 
them,  its  delicate  pink  flowers  and  richly  cut  foliage 
being  a  most  welcome  addition  to  our  wild  garden. 
While  throughout  the  summer  the  leaves  are  of  a 
bright  green,  in  the  Autumn  they  and  the  numerous 
and  freely  branching  stems  turn  to  a  rich  crimson. 
It  seeds  so  freely  that  we  may  presently  find  our 
store  growing  too  abundant,  but  it  is  very  easily 
kept  within  bounds.  Variation  to  white  is  one  of 
the  commonest  colour  changes  in  plants ;  we  may 
see  it  in  the  hyacinth,  bugle,  violet,  and  various 
other  flowers,  and  we  have  sometimes  found  the 
herb  Robert  bearing  blossoms  of  a  pure  white.  A 
variety  may  sometimes  be  found  near  the  coast  that 
has  smaller  leaves  and  flowers  than  the  normal 
plant :  this  has  been  differentiated  by  some  writers 
as  the  Geranium  purpurem.  On  gathering  the 

1  Those  who  would  stray  beyond  the  limits  of  our  in- 
digenous flora  will  find  in  the  Geranium  argenteum — Plate 
XXX. — a  charming  Alpine  plant,  with  silvery  foliage  and  pale 
rose  flowers.  R.  cinereum,  R.  armenium,  R.  angulatum,  are 
other  excellent  rock  plants,  and  to  these  many  others  might 
be  added. 


XVII. 


YELLOW    LOOSESTRIFE. 


To  face  page  104. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  SIGNATURES       105 

herb  Robert  one  is  conscious  that  the  plant  gives 
forth  a  strong  odour,  which  to  some  folk  is  an 
added  attraction,  while  others  entirely  fail  to 
confirm  this.  The  name  has  been  in  use  some 
hundreds  of  years,  and  various  theories  as  to  its 
origin  and  significance  have  been  evolved.  As 
written  it  suggests  association  with  some  person, 
and  St.  Robert,  Robin  Goodfellow,  and  other  more 
or  less  mythical  individuals,  have  been  evolved, I 
but  very  possibly  this  Robert  is  but  a  corruption 
of  rubworl,  the  red  plant. 

It  was  an  article  of  mediaeval  belief  that  an  all- 
wise,  all-merciful  Providence  had  given  in  the 
wayside  weeds  remedial  efficacy  for  all  the  ills 
of  mortality :  that  it  was  man's  duty  to  study  and 
work  out  so  great  a  boon,  and  that  the  plants 
themselves  often  bore  not  obscurely  impressed 
upon  them  their  service  to  suffering  humanity. 
This  belief  is  known  as  the  Doctrine  of  Signatures, 
and  is  referred  to  as  a  matter  wholly  beyond  cavil 
by  the  older  writers.  "  Though  Sin  and  Satan 
have  plunged  mankinde  into  an  Ocean  of  Infirmities, 
yet  the  Mercy  of  God,  which  is  over  all  his  workes, 
maketh  Grasse  to  grow  upon  the  Mountaines  and 
Herbes  for  the  use  of  men,  and  hath  not  only 
stamped  upon  them  a  distinct  forme  but  also  hath 
given  them  particular  Signatures  whereby  a  man 

1  In  France  the  plant  is  the  Bec-de-grue  Robertin,  and 
in  Germany  it  is  the  Ruprechtskraut 


106  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

may  read  the  use  of  them."  It  is  evident  that  a 
theory  of  this  kind  affords  a  noble  opportunity  for 
the  play  of  the  imagination.  The  foxglove  derived 
its  older  name,  the  throatwort,  from  a  belief  that 
the  spotted  interiors  of  its  tubular  flowers  indicated 
its  use  in  ulcerated  sore  throat.  The  curling  spiral 
form  made  by  the  buds  of  the  forget-me-not  was 
supposed  to  be  suggestive  of  the  tail  of  a  scorpion, 
and  in  all  the  old  herbals  it  is  called  the  scorpion- 
grass  and  regarded  as  a  potent  preservative  against 
the  assaults  of  these  creatures.  The  tormentil, 
from  the  red  colour  of  its  root,  was  called  the  blood- 
root,  and  was  therefore  employed  to  relieve  severe 
bleeding — a  service  to  which  the  crimson  leaves 
of  the  herb  Robert  were  also  put.  These  must 
indeed  have  been  the  ages  of  strong  faith,  and  of 
powerful  determination  not  to  allow  untoward  facts 
to  disturb  belief.  It  seems  strange  that  such  a 
theory  could  have  held  its  ground  a  week  when 
brought  to  the  test  of  practical  experience. 

The  dusky  crane's-bill,  or  Geranium  phczum,  is 
a  very  welcome  addition  to  our  rock-garden,  as 
its  curiously  coloured  large  flowers  are  very  notice- 
able, their  dull,  chocolate-red  tint1  being  so  unusual. 
A  quaint  local  name  for  it  is  the  mourning  widow. 
The  plant,  too,  stands  boldly  erect  and  flowers 

1  It  is  in  France  the  Geranium  brun,  while  the  German 
name  is  even  more  precise — the  Rothbrauner  Kranichsch- 
nabel. 


VARIOUS  CRANE'S-BILLS  107 

freely:  we  figure  it  in  Plate  VIII.  The  dusky 
crane's-bill  may  occasionally  be  found  in  woods  and 
copses,  and  in  some  districts,  and  especially  in  the 
North,  under  conditions  that  militate  against  the 
idea  of  its  introduction  by  human  agency,  but  it  is 
really  at  home  in  Central  and  Western  Europe. 
While  there  is  strong  suspicion  of  the  plant  having 
originally  been  brought  to  these  islands  by  the 
hand  of  man,  it  is  now  well  established  in  many 
localities,  and  duly  finds  place  in  the  lists  of  our 
British  flora.  The  knotty  crane's-bill,  G.  nodosum, 
the  purple  flower  on  Plate  IX.,  is  another  Conti- 
nental species,  as  is,  too,  the  pencilled  geranium, 
the  smaller  flower  on  Plate  X.  These  are  both 
cultivated  in  gardens,  and  occasionally  stray  out- 
side or  are  cast  forth.  Both  are  at  times  found 
under  conditions  that  justify  at  least  the  verdict 
of  apparently  wild.  Both  do  well  in  our  rock- 
garden,  the  latter  especially  forming  large  masses. 
It  was  gathered  amidst  the  herbage  on  a  grassy 
bank  on  the  coast  of  Yorkshire,  and  at  considerable 
distance  from  any  human  habitation. 

The  second  plant  on  Plate  X.  is  the  blood 
geranium  :  the  name  none  too  happily  or  tastefully 
bearing  record  to  the  rich  crimson  of  the  blossoms. 
Though  often,  from  the  attractive  colour  of  its 
flowers,  and  their  large  size,  found  as  a  garden 
plant,  it  is  an  undoubted  wildling.  It  should  be 
looked  for  on  high-lying  pasturage,  and  if  this  be 


108  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

on  limestone  so  much  the  better.  It  is  curious  that 
while  in  all  the  other  crane's-bills  the  flowers  are 
in  pairs,  in  this  one  they  stand  singly  on  the  long 
stems.  In  the  other  species  one  or  two  scales 
will  be  found  at  the  forking  of  the  stems,  and  these 
scales  may  also  be  seen  on  the  stem  of  the  blood 
crane's-bill,  as  a  sort  of  concession  to  crane's-bill 
custom,  though  the  second  stem  puts  in  no  appear- 
ance. Those  who  have  only  seen  it  as  a  garden 
plant  can  form  little  or  no  idea  of  its  vigour  of 
growth  and  luxuriance  under  conditions  fully  favour- 
able to  its  well-being. 

The  noble  meadow  crane's-bill,  two  or  three  feet 
in  height,  surmounted  by  its  large  purple  flowers  ; 
the  charming  little  shining-leaved  geranium  that, 
like  the  herb  Robert,  turns  so  rich  a  crimson  in  the 
Autumn,  the  dove's-foot,  are  all  common  species 
that  must  be  by  no  means  overlooked.  The  Gera- 
nium argenteum,  the  silver-leaved  crane's-bill, 
figured  on  Plate  XXX.,  is  a  foreigner.  Its  pale 
grey  foliage  makes  a  charming  contrast  with  the 
surrounding  verdure. 

The  celandine  finds  a  welcome  place  in  our 
rock-garden,  partly  from  its  golden  blossoms,  but 
more  especially  from  the  quaint  form  of  its  foliage. 
We  figure  the  plant  on  Plate  XL,  but  exigencies  of 
space  compel  us  to  be  content  with  a  very  small 
leaf;  many  of  the  leaves  are  really  seven  or  eight 
inches  long.  The  celandine  is  an  ornamental  her- 


CELANDINE  109 

baceous  plant  that  may  be  freely  met  with  in  the 
hedgerows,  and  abounds  in  an  orange  juice  which 
flows  freely  when  the  stems  are  broken  across. 
This  juice  is  very  acrid,  and  though  it  has  in  olden 
time  had  a  place  amongst  the  materia  medica,  its 
administration  in  any  considerable  quantity  would 
probably  be  dangerous.  There  is  little  or  no  fear 
of  accidental  poisoning,  however,  as  merely  touch- 
ing the  juice  with  the  tip  of  the  tongue  gives  a 
pungent  and  burning  sensation  that  lasts  for  a  long 
time,  and  is  so  entirely  nauseous  as  to  render  any 
considerable  repetition  of  the  experiment  very  im- 
probable. This  yellow  juice  was  naturally  held,  in 
accordance  with  the  Doctrine  of  Signatures,  to  be 
a  specific  for  the  jaundice.  Many  other  uses  were 
ascribed  to  the  plant,  but  we  need  only  mention 
one  other, I  the  application  of  this  juice  to  the  eyes 
to  sharpen  the  eyesight — a  remedy  which,  per- 
sonally, we  should  be  very  chary  of  trying.  The 
name  of  the  plant  is  derived  from  the  Greek  word 
chelidon,  a  swallow,  and  the  plant  was  so  called 
from  a  belief  that  the  young  swallows  were  born 
blind,  and  that  the  parent  birds  gave  them  sight  by 

1  a  We  omit  to  recite  the  many  vertues  and  endlesse  faculties 
ascribed  unto  plants,  which  sometimes  occurre  in  grave  and 
serious  Authors,  and  we  shall  make  a  bad  transaction  for 
truth  to  concede  a  verity  in  half.  To  reckon  it  up  were 
an  imployment  for  Archimedes,  who  undertook  to  write 
the  number  of  the  sands." — BROWNE,  "  Pseudodoxica  Epi- 
demica,"  1650. 


110  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

rubbing  their  eyes  with  this  herb,  or  restored  their 
vision  if  lost  by  any  mischance.1  Even  before  the 
Christian  era  Dioscorides  called  the  plant  the  cheli- 
donium,  while  Pliny  says  "  the  brute  animals  have 
been  the  discoverers  of  certain  plants,  and  amongst 
them  we  will  name  the  Chelidonia  first  of  all,"  and 
he  then  goes  on  to  narrate  the  popular  belief  that 
we  have  given.  It  was  a  most  natural  onward  step 
to  take  to  believe  that  what  was  of  such  miraculous 
value  to  the  little  swallows  would  naturally  also  be 
of  healing  power  to  mankind.  As  we  see  the 
hedge-banks  bright  with  the  golden  rays  of  the 
hawk-weed  florets,  they  recall  to  our  minds  another 
of  these  old  Greek  fancies,  for  these  plants  were  so 
called  two  thousand  years  ago,  from  a  belief  that  the 
hawks  eat  these  plants  to  strengthen  their  eyesight. 
Insignificant  in  appearance  as  the  plant  is,  we 
must  certainly  find  room  for  some  vervain.  It  is 
not  without  a  certain  lightness  and  grace,  but  it  is 
chiefly  from  its  associations  that  one  regards  it  with 
interest,  since  it  was  for  centuries  "  the  holy  ver- 

1  This  belief  is  gravely  set  forth  throughout  the  centuries, 
each  author  embodying  it  in  his  book  as  a  matter  of  course. 
One  example  will  suffice  :  "  When  as  the  Swalow  adydeth 
and  buildeth  amongst  vs  this  plant  serueth  to  great  vse  and 
purpose.  For  if  at  any  time  by  any  mischance  of  fortune 
hir  yong  be  hurt  or  perilled  in  their  eiesight  the  dam  goeth 
to  this  Herbe  and  presseth  forthe  his  iuce,  whiche  being  so 
done,  she  annoynteth  it  about  their  eies,  and  so  restoreth  them 
to  the  better,  and  their  former  state  and  case  againe." — 
MAPLET,  1567. 


XVIII. 


GOLDEN    SAXIFRAGE    and    SEA    PLANTAIN. 


To  face  f>age  in 


THE  VALUED  VERVAIN  111 

vayne  agaynst  witchcraft  much  avayling  "  ;  a  plant 
held  in  reverential  regard.  An  outward  application 
of  the  juice  of  the  plant  to  the  hands  ensured,  it 
was  believed,  the  possession  of  one's  heart's  desire, 
gained  the  affections  of  all  whose  love  was  sought, 
turned  aside  the  malice  of  one's  enemies,  healed  all 
diseases.  To  gather  a  plant  of  such  inestimable 
worth  it  was  necessary  that  neither  sun  nor  moon 
should  be  shining  upon  it  at  the  time,  and  as  atone- 
ment for  the  robbing  of  the  earth  of  such  a  treasure 
an  offering  of  honey  was  poured  on  the  ground. 
The  Greeks  and  Romans  purified  their  temples  by 
sprinkling  water  in  their  midst  by  means  of 
bunches  of  vervain, *  and  ambassadors  and  heralds 
wore  a  crown  of  it  on  great  occasions.  Pliny  tells 
us  that  the  Druids,  too,  of  Gaul  and  Britain  held 
the  plant  in  great  veneration.  To  descend  to  more 
mundane  considerations,  we  are  told  that  "  if  the 
dining  roome  be  sprinckled  with  water  in  whiche 
the  herbe  hath  beene  steeped  the  guests  will  be 
the  merrier" — a  receipt  for  good-fellowship  as  old 
as  Dioscorides. 

The  vervain  throughout  the  Middle  Ages  main- 
tained its  reputation  as  a  medicinal  herb.     Gerard, 

1  u  Lift  your  boughs  of  vervain  blue, 

Dipt  in  cold  September  dew  ; 
And  dash  the  moisture,  chaste  and  clear, 
O'er  the  ground,  and  through  the  air  ; 
Now  the  place  is  purged  and  pure." 

MASON. 


112  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

for  instance,  reports  it  as  "  of  singular  force  against 
the  Tertian    and    Quartan    Feuers,"   but   cautions 
his  readers  to  "observe   mother  Bombies  rule,  to 
take  iust  so  many  knots  or  sprigs  and  no  more, 
lest  it  fall  out  that  it  do  you  no  good,  if  you  catch 
no  harm."    The  "  just  so  many  "  that  Mrs.  Bombey 
stipulated  for  being,  of  course,  either  three  or  four, 
according  to  the  nature  and  recurrence  of  the  fever. 
By  Gerard's  time,  however,  the  belief  in  the  super- 
natural  and   magical   powers   of   the  vervain   had 
worn  rather  thin,  as  he  goes  on  to  say,    "  Many 
odde   olde   wives   fables    are   written   of  vervaine 
tending  to  witchcraft  and  sorcerie,  which  you  may 
read   elsewhere,  for  I   am   not  willing   to   trouble 
your  eares  with   reporting   such  trifles   as   honest 
eares  abhore  to   heare."     Few   plants   were   held, 
for  centuries,  in  greater  medicinal  reputation  than 
the  vervain,  while  certainly  few  have  been  so  com- 
pletely disregarded   in   these   later  days.     Its   use 
in  jaundice,    gout,    ague,    the   healing   of  wounds, 
ophthalmia,    toothache,    ulceration    of    the    throat, 
and   many  other   ailments,   was    warmly   extolled ; 
hence  one  old  name  for  the  plant  was  the  simpler's 
joy,  the  demand  for  the  plant  in  medicine  making 
the  gathering  of  it  by  the  herbalist  a  highly  lucra- 
tive business.     Those  who  would  seek  it  may  find 
it  readily  enough  in  many  localities  in  England — 
though  it  is  a  rare  plant  in  Ireland  and  Scotland 
— its  favourite  spot  being  the  roadside. 


CHAPTER  V 

Woodruff — La  Reine  des  Bois — Ordinarily  very  little  senti- 
ment in  the  old  plant-names — Goosegrass — Lavender — 
Strewing  herbs— Sweet  marjoram — The  "  Dyetery  of 
Helthe  "  of  Boorde — Bistort — Meadow-rue — The  globe- 
flower— Goafs-beard— The  salsify— Nap-at-noon — The 
speedwells — The  sky-blue  flowers  of  the  borage — The 
herb  of  gladness — "  The  Art  of  Longevity" — Agrimony 
— Philanthropes— The  bindweed  of  our  hedges — Sea 
convolvulus — The  much-encroaching  yet  welcome  little 
field  convolvulus — The  yet  more  encroaching  but  less 
welcome  buckwheat — The  "Theatrum  Botanicum"  of 
Parkinson. 

ONE  of  the  most  graceful  of  wild  flowers  is 
the  woodruff.  It  is  also  one  of  the  easiest 
to  cultivate,  as  it  spreads  with  great  freedom  and 
speedily  covers  a  large  space  with  its  offshoots. 
It  will  grow,  too,  beneath  the  shade  of  other 
things.  Its  charm  of  form  and  the  delicate  purity 
of  its  clustering  cross-like  blossoms  of  spotless 
white  are  points  that  at  once  attract.  It  is  a 
plant  of  the  woods,  and  flowers  freely  in  the  early 
Summer,  though  even  well  into  August  it  may  be 
found  in  blossom.  Though  each  flower  is  very 

8  113 


114  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

small,  the  blossoms  in  the  aggregate  form  a  con- 
spicuous termination  to  the  slender  stems.  The 
leaves  are  given  off  in  rings  at  intervals  on 
the  stalks,  and  this  radiate  effect  is  a  very 
charming  feature.  On  first  gathering  the  plant 
the  odour  is  but  slight  ;  but  if  we  suspend 
a  bunch  of  it  in  a  room  it  will,  as  it 
dries,  give  forth  a  most  fragrant  and  powerful 
smell.  Tusser,1  we  see,  places  it  in  his  list  of 
plants  that  the  good  housewife  will  seek  "  to  still 
in  Sommer,"  amongst  the  other  herbs  commended 
being  "  betanie,  endive,  eiebright,  saxefrage,  sorell, 
and  suckerie."  Woodruff  is  recommended  by  him 
"for  sweete  waters  and  cakes,"  while  in  Germany 
it  is  still  a  principal  ingredient  in  the  favourite 
beverage  Maitrank.  In  the  Fatherland  the  plant 
is  the  Waldmeister,  or  lord  of  the  wood — a  name 
that  certainly  seems  to  overweight  with  dignity  a 
plant  so  delicate  and  unassuming.  The  French 
Reine  des  bois,  though  almost  equally  high-sounding, 
we  may  accept  as  a  testimony  to  its  charm.  An 
older  German  name  is  Herzfreydt — heart's  joy  ;  and 
Gerard  tells  us  that  the  plant  "  is  put  into  wine  to 
make  a  man  merry  and  to  be  good  for  the  heart 
and  liver."  2 

1  "  Fiue  Hundred  Pointes  of  Good  Husbandrie,"  by 
Thomas  Tusser,  originally  published  in  1557,  but  running 
through  many  subsequent  editions. 

*  We  must  warn  our  readers  that  ordinarily  there  is  very 


PEOSAIC  PLANT-NAMES  115 

Much  difference  of  opinion  has  been  elicited  as 
to  the  meaning  of  the  name  woodruff:  it  has  been 
spelt  in  a  great  variety  of  ways,  as,  for  example, 
woodrowe,  woodrowel,  and,  to  quote  the  old 
rhyme — 

"  Double  U,  double  O,  double  D,  E, 
R,  O,  double  U,  double  F,  E." 

In  Anglo-Saxon  plant  lists  it  is  the  wudu-rofe,  or 
wudu-reeve.  The  reeve,  in  Saxon  days,  was  one 
in  authority  :  our  modern  sheriff  was  in  these 
earlier  times  the  shire-reeve,  and  this  brings  the 
Saxon  name  woodreeve  into  line  with  the  German 
Waldmeister.2  Row  in  Anglo-Saxon  signified  sweet, 

little  sentiment  in  the  old  plant-names  :  heart's-joy,  heart's- 
ease,  forget-me-not,  and  such-like,  did  not  originally  carry 
the  sentimental  and  poetic  glamour  that  later  folk  would 
read  into  them.  The  reference,  for  instance,  to  the  heart 
in  these  early  names  veils  no  allusion  to  the  smart  inflicted 
by  the  dart  of  Cupid,  but  to  those  much  more  serious 
cardiac  troubles  that  the  skill  of  the  herbalist  and  leech  of 
mediaeval  days  or  the  modern  specialist  may  perchance  re- 
lieve, to  the  joy  and  ease  of  the  patient,  while  the  name 
forget-me-not  was  originally  assigned  to  the  ground-pine 
from  its  nauseous  taste — a  name  borne  for  centuries,  to  be 
found  in  Lyte,  Gerard,  Parkinson,  and  other  early  authorities, 
and  only  lately  transferred  to  the  pretty  little  blue  flower  of 
our  streams  that  now  bears  it,  in  consequence  of  a  senti- 
mental legend  that  has  got  tacked  on  to  it. 

2  While  the  woodruff  is  a  particularly  retiring  plant,  and 
entirely  exempt  from  all  ambition  of  lordship  over  its  fellows, 
it  closely  resembles  the  goosegrass,  a  plant  botanically  allied 


116  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

so  that  we  are  thrown  upon  another  track  :  the 
plant  botanically  is  the  Asperula  odorata,  and  its 
early  colloquial  name  may  signify  the  odorous 
woodland  plant,  the  wood-sweet.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  plants  of  the  genus  have  a  certain 
roughness  to  the  touch,  hence  asperula ;  and  the 
Anglo-Saxon  for  rough  is  ruh,  thence  another 
theory  is  that  the  plant  is  the  wood-rough.  Others, 
again,  remind  us  that  the  radiating  leaves  are 
strongly  suggestive  of  the  ruff  that  has  from  time 
to  time  appeared  as  an  article  of  dress,  but  we 
may  take  it  that  such  a  derivation  is  of  too  modern 
a  date ;  while  yet  others  take  the  French  roue, 
a  wheel,  as  a  base,  and  find  justification  for  the 
idea  in  the  spoke-like  rings  of  leaves.  The  diminu- 
tive form  is  rouelle,  a  little  wheel  or  rowel,  and  we 
are  invited  to  see  in  the  leaf  arrangement  a  sug- 
gestion of  the  radiate  star-like  spurs  of  the  olden 
days.  Turner,  for  instance,  writing  in  1548,  calls 
our  plant  the  woodrowel,  and  says  that  its  leaves 
"  represent  certaine  rowelles  of  spurres." 

The  woodruff  is  found  in  woods  and  copses  in 

to  it.  This  latter  in  olden  days  was  the  heriffe,  from  the 
Anglo-Saxon  words  haga,  a  hedge,  and  reafe,  a  taxgatherer 
— a  name  given  to  it  from  its  grasping  powers,  hooking  into 
anything  by  which  it  could  sustain  itself  and  rambling  far 
and  wide  over  the  hedges  and  undergrowth.  It  may  well  be 
that  in  those  less  observant  days  the  aggressive  demeanour 
of  the  one  plant  caused  the  other  that  resembled  it  to  be 
credited  with  an  ambition  quite  foreign  to  its  nature. 


XIX. 


BLACKBERRY 


To  face  page  7/6. 


LAVENDER  117 

many  places  in  Britain,  as  well  as  throughout 
Europe,  Northern  and  Western  Asia.  Apart  from 
its  infusion  in  water  or  wine  as  an  agreeable 
flavouring,  the  housewife  may  place  it  in  the  linen 
chest,  like  lavender,  as  a  perfume,  and  also,  kept 
amongst  clothes,  as  a  preservative  from  the  ravages 
of  insects. 

Though  the  lavender  has  absolutely  no  claim  to 
a  place  in  our  British  Flora,  being  really  a  plant  of 
Southern  Europe,  we  are  not  so  brain-bound  as  to 
exclude  it  from  our  rock-garden.  It  seems  to  have 
first  found  its  way  into  our  herb-gardens  about  the 
year  1568,  and  was  originally  held  in  high  esteem, 
not  only  from  its  fragrance,  but  from  its  healing 
virtues.1  It  will  be  recalled  that  in  Shenstone's 
admirable  description  of  the  rural  home  in  the  herb 
plot — 

"  Where  no  vain  flower  disclosed  a  gaudy  streak, 
But  herbs  for  use,  and  physic,  not  a  few, 
Of  gray  renown,  within  those  borders  grew  " — 


1  "  It  is  hot  and  dry,  of  thin  substance,  consisting  of  many 
airy  and  spirituall  parts,  so  helps  cold  diseases  of  the  head. 
The  flowers  picked  from  the  knob,  mixed  with  cinnamon, 
nutmegs  and  cloves  powdered  and  drunk  in  the  distilled  water 
thereof  helpeth  panting  and  passions  of  the  heart.  The 
compound  spirit  clears  the  sight  of  aged  phlematick  or 
sanguine  persons,  good  against  dulness  of  wit  and  want  of 
memory  from  a  cold  and  moist  distemper.  It  heals  con- 
vulsions in  children,  being  well  allayed  with  waters  of  cow- 
slips, black  cherries,  and  lilly  convally  ;  with  rue  water  it  is 
thought  to  heal  children  bewitcht." — LOVELL,  1665. 


118  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

besides  the  " pun-provoking  thyme"  the  euphrasy, 
the  "  marjoram  sweet "  and  other  plants,  the  lavender 
found  a  welcome,  the  herb — 

"Whose  spikes  of  azure  bloom 

Shall  be  erewhile  in  arid  bundles  bound, 
To  lurk  amidst  the  labours  of  her  loom, 

And  crown  her  kerchiefs  clean  with   mickle  rare 
perfume." 

It  also  occurs  in  various  old  lists  as  a  "strewing 
herb,"  with  "bassel,  baulme,  isop,  tanzie,  margrom" 
and  other  fragrant  plants.  The  plant  is  botanically 
the  Lavandula  spica,  the  generic  name  being  from  the 
Latin  lavare,  to  wash,  from  the  plant  being  used  in 
classic  times  as  an  unguent  to  anoint  the  body  after 
the  bath.  The  lavender  grows  very  freely  from 
cuttings,  and  its  masses  of  pale  grey  foliage  form 
a  very  welcome  contrast  to  the  vegetation,  while  its 
fragrance  is  an  added  charm.  "  It  is  of  a  strong 
smell,  and  yet  pleasant  enough  to  such  as  doe  loue 
strong  savours,"  writes  more  guardedly  one  of  the 
old  herbalists.  It  thrives  best  on  a  somewhat  light 
and  poor  soil. 

The  " marjoram  sweet"  finds  a  welcome  place 
in  our  garden,  as  its  general  colour  effect  is  of  a 
brownish  crimson.  It  may  not  unfrequently  be 
found  on  dry  hillsides  and  bordering  the  roads, 
and  more  especially  in  a  chalk  or  limestone 
district,  and  we  must,  as  far  as  may  be,  reproduce 


THE  GATHERING  OF  HERBS  119 

this  state  of  things  in  our  rock-garden.  The  ground 
must  be  well  drained,  and  we  have  grown  it  well  in 
light  sand.  It  is  very  fragrant,  and  is  collected  in 
large  quantities  for  the  sake  of  the  aromatic  oil  that 
it  yields  on  distillation  :  it  is  often  cultivated  too 
in  gardens  as  a  sweet  herb.1  To  harvest  herbs 
properly  they  should  be  gathered  on  a  fine  dry  day 
just  as  they  are  coming  well  into  bloom.  They 
must  then  be  tied  up  in  small  bunches  and  hung 
in  the  shade  to  dry.  When  thoroughly  dried  they 
may  either  be  wrapped  up  in  paper  and  stowed 
away  in  some  air-tight  canister,  or  rubbed  to  a 
powder  and  then  corked  up  in  bottles  duly  labelled. 
They  should  then  keep  for  almost  any  time. 

Like  most  other  things,  the  marjoram  was  credited 
with  considerable  medicinal  virtue.  "  Drunk  in  wine 
it  helpeth  against  all  mortal  poisons,"  dropped  into 
the  ears  the  oil  was  effectual  against  the  bitings  of 
venomous  beasts,  and  the  plant  strewn  on  the 
ground  drove  away  serpents.  Gerard,  we  see, 
strongly  commends  a  potion  of  it  "unto  such 
as  cannot  brooke  their  meate."  In  Lovell, 
amongst  the  various  ailments  of  suffering  humanity 
we  find  stupidity — marjoram,  together  with  box, 

1  "  It  is  a  comodyous  and  a  pleasaunt  thynge  to  a  mansyon 
to  have  an  orchard  of  soundry  fruytes,  but  it  is  more  como- 
diouse  to  have  a  fayre  gardain  repleted  wyth  herbes  of 
aromatyck  and  redolent  sauours." — BOORDE,  "  Dyetery  of 
Helthe,"  1542. 


120  OtTR  ROCK-GARDEN 

fennel,  melilot,  thistle,  sage,  vine  and  several  other 
plants  being  highly  commended  for  this  distressing 
complaint. 

The  meaning  of  the  name  appears  to  be  com- 
pletely lost,  unless  indeed  we  are  prepared  to 
accept  the  statement  of  an  old  writer1  that  "it 
took  its  name  of  a  certaine  Kinges  wayting  Boy, 
whiche  in  fetching  his  Lord  certaine  oyntments  at 
the  Apothecaries,  by  chaunce  whilest  he  bare  them 
had  a  fall,  and  so  by  the  spilling  of  euerie  eche  of 
them  (meeting  together  by  their  flowing  and  by 
such  confusion)  a  meruellous  sweete  smell  was  made, 
which  as  they  say  this  marioram  represented!. " 

The  bistort,  the  central  figure  on  Plate  XXVII.,  is 
a  gracefully  growing  and  picturesque  plant  that  we 
are  glad  to  welcome,  as  its  spikes  of  pink  blossom 
standing  boldly  erect  come  well.  It  was  held  "a 
singular  remedy  to  wash  any  place  bitten  or  stung 
by  any  venemous  creature,  as  Spiders,  Toades, 
Adders  and  the  like."  2  It  derives  its  name,  bistort 
— the  twice- twisted — from  its  convoluted  roots :  hence 
it  was  called  adderwort,  snake-weed,  twice-writhen, 
and  serpentaria  by  the  old  herbalists.  These  roots 
are  highly  astringent  and  possess  real  medical  value, 
though  they  are  now  superseded  by  other  material. 
They  creep  very  freely,  and  by  their  means  the  plant 
rapidly  spreads  and  takes  possession  of  perhaps 

1  Maplet,  u  A  Greene  Forest/'  1567. 

8  Parkinson,  "  Theatrum  Botanicum,"  1640. 


BISTORT  AND  MEADOW-RtfE  121 

more  than  its  share  of  space.  It  thrives  best 
where  the  ground  is  fairly  moist.  We  have  ordi- 
narily planted  it  amongst  ferns,  the  long  spikes  of 
flower  rising  amidst  the  fronds  and  giving  a  very 
pleasant  contrast,  while  the  degree  of  humidity  that 
suits  the  one  is  equally  grateful  to  the  other.  The 
leaves  form  a  wholesome  vegetable.  The  bistort 
is  distinctly  a  local  plant,  and  is  commoner  in  the 
north  of  England  than  in  the  south.  One  finds  it 
on  the  mountain  meadows  of  Switzerland  in  glorious 
profusion. 

Another  interesting  plant  to  cultivate  is  the 
meadow-rue — Tkalictrum  flavum.  It  derives  its 
generic  title  from  the  Greek  verb,  signifying  to  be 
flourishing,  and  it  is  a  very  well-earned  designa- 
tion, for  when  once  established  the  difficulty  is  not 
so  much  to  preserve  it  as  to  insist  that  it  shall  give 
its  neighbours  a  fair  chance  of  being  preserved  too  : 
it  is  a  perennial.  The  plant  attains  to  a  height  of 
some  three  feet,  and,  alike  in  its  richly  cut  foliage 
and  its  masses  of  yellow  blossom,  is  a  welcome 
addition  to  one's  garden.  Though  a  wild  plant,  it 
is  not  at  all  commonly  distributed.  It  should  be 
searched  for  in  low-lying  moist  meadow-land,  osier- 
beds,  and  such-like  aqueous  spots,  hence  another 
name  for  it  is  the  fen-rue.  It  was  an  old  belief 
that  if  hung  up  in  a  room  or  tied  round  the  neck 
of  any  person  the  plant  preserved  them  from  all 
danger ;  but  this  statement  we  merely  pass  on 


122  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

without  guarantee,  as  we  have  not  ourselves  yet 
tested  it.  Its  heads  of  yellow  flowers  naturally 
suggested  to  our  forefathers  that  the  plant  was  of 
efficacy  in  the  treatment  of  jaundice. 

The  handsome  globe-flower  must  not  be  over- 
looked. It  closely  resembles  a  double  buttercup, 
the  ten  or  more  broad  sepals  all  turning  inward 
and  forming  the  globe  that  gives  it  its  popular 
name.  Hence,  too,  it  has  been  called  the  cabbage 
daisy,  though  as  daisies  are  white  and  this  is  yellow 
the  name  is  not  quite  a  happy  one.  Other  popular 
names  for  it  are  the  troll-flower,  globe  crowfoot,  and, 
in  Scotland  it  is  the  locken  gowan.  Botanically  it 
is  the  Trollius  europeus.  Some  would  tell  us  that 
Trollius,  or  troll-flower,  are  equivalent  in  meaning  to 
globe-flower,  being  from  the  old  German  word  trol, 
a  sphere  or  ball,  while  others  see  in  it  a  reference  to 
the  acrid  and  poisonous  nature  of  the  plant,  troll  in 
the  northern  languages  of  Europe  being  a  malig- 
nant supernatural  being ;  and  this  brings  us  in  sight 
of  a  clue  to  another  of  its  Scottish  names — the 
witches  gowan.  The  globe-flower  grows  from  one 
to  two  feet  high,  and  its  foliage  is  of  buttercup  type, 
the  leaves  being  cut  up  into  five  principal  segments, 
and  these  in  turn  divided.  It  is  a  decidedly  orna- 
mental plant,  flower  and  foliage  being  alike  attrac- 
tive.1 It  should  be  sought  for  in  moist  woods  and 

1  Those  who  care  to  visit  the  florist  will  find  many  excellent 
globe-flowers  in  cultivation,  varying  from  pale  straw-colour  to 


XX 


DEWBERRY. 


To  face  page  122. 


PLANT  ASSOCIATIONS  123 

mountain  pastures  in  the  north  of  England  and 
Ireland,  in  Wales  and  in  Scotland.  Gerard,  we 
see,  affirms  that  "it  groweth  in  most  places  of 
Yorkshire  and  Lancashire,  and  other  bordering 
shires  of  the  north  countrey,  almost  in  euery 
medow,  but  not  found  wilde  in  these  Southerly  or 
Westerly  parts  of  England  that  I  could  ever 
understand  of."  Our  plants  are  growing  within  a 
few  miles  of  the  Metropolis,  but  they  are,  of  course, 
importations,  vigorously  as  they  are  thriving. 

As  our  globe-flower  reminds  us  of  pleasant  rambles 
in  North  Wales,  so  our  goat's-beard  recalls  ex- 
periences no  less  pleasant  amongst  the  sand-dunes 
of  Northern  France,  where  we  collected  the  seeds 
that  stocked  our  rock-garden.  It  is  a  common  plant 
in  England,  and  assuredly  one  need  not  travel  outside 
our  own  borders  to  find  it,  but  the  whole  point  of 
such  a  garden  as  we  seek  to  commend  is  that  the 
plants,  common  as  they  may  be,  should  have  a  two- 
fold interest — that  inherent  in  themselves,  and  that 
accruing  from  the  associations  that  have  clustered 
around  them.  These  associations  may  sometimes 
deal  with  the  folk-lore  that  has  become  attached  to 
them,  or  they  may  recall  the  kindly  friends  who 
sent  them  to  us,  or  bring  to  our  minds  our  own 
enjoyable  experiences  in  the  localities  that  contri- 
buted to  our  store.  In  the  present  case  the  sight 

deep  orange.     Desirable  varieties  to  obtain  are  the  T.  Gibsoni, 
T.  giganteus,  T.  altaicus,  T.  napellifolius,  and  T.  americanus. 


124  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

of  our  goat's-beard  recalls  a  delightful  holiday  in  and 
around  Ambleteuse,  so  that  we  see  not  the  quaint 
goat's-beard  alone  but  live  anew  in  the  glorious  sun- 
shine, shared  with  the  pleasantest  of  companions, 
return  again  the  kindly  greetings  of  the  villagers, 
wander  afresh  by  the  margin  of  the  sea,  or  along 
the  highways  and  byways  of  that  pleasant  land. 
The  idea  of  needing  in  such  surroundings  to  whet 
one's  appetite,  bodily  or  mental,  seems  entirely 
superfluous,  but  we  see  in  one  of  our  old  authors 
that  when  such  necessity  arises  some  score  of 
plants,  including  the  barberry,  broom,  elder,  cows- 
lip, samphire,  mint,  and  woodruff,  may  be  tried,  and 
amongst  these  we  find  the  goat's-beard  commended.1 
The  flower-head  of  the  goat's-beard  is,  in  colour  and 
size,  much  like  that  of  the  dandelion.  Below  the 
mass  of  florets  is  a  ring  of  bracts,  and  these  often 
extend  far  beyond  the  central  yellow  mass,  standing 
boldly  out  in  star-like  fashion.  We  may  see  this 
quaint  feature  very  clearly  in  the  purple  flower — the 
salsify — an  allied  species,  on  Plate  XIII.  The  goat's- 
beard  is  the  Tragopogon  pratense  of  botanical  no- 
menclature. The  generic  name  is  composed  of  two 
Greek  words,  and  is  identical  in  meaning  with  its 
popular  English  name,  and  suggested  by  the  fluffy 
character  and  grey  colour  of  the  globular  head  of 

1  uThe  roots  boiled  in  water  till  tender,  buttered  and 
eaten,  they  help  the  appetite,  and  strengthen  those  that 
have  been  sick  of  chronicall  diseases." — LOVELL,  1665. 


INFLUENCE  OF  WEATHER  125 

fruit  that  succeeds  the  flowers.  This  is  very  similar 
to  the  globe  that  is  so  familiar  to  all  in  the  dande- 
lion, in  each  case  the  central  seeds  having  attached 
to  them  these  feather-like  hairs  by  which  they  are 
dispersed  for  miles  over  the  country-side.  The 
flowers  have  a  very  curious  habit  of  closing  up  by 
midday,1  hence  the  plant  has  received  the  rustic 
name  of  jack-go-to-bed-at-noon.  In  rainy  weather 
it  declines  to  open  at  all. 

The  purple  flower  on  Plate  XIII.  we  have  seen  is 
the  salsify,  the  Tragopogon  porrifolius.  The  generic 
name  we  have  met  with  in  the  preceding  paragraph, 
the  specific  is  from  the  Latin  word  porrum,  a  leek, 
the  leaves  of  the  salsify  being  rather  suggestive  of 
those  of  the  leek.  The  plant  stands  nearly  a  yard 
high,  and  its  blossoms  have  the  same  curious  property 
of  early  closing  and  sensitiveness  to  dull  weather  as 
those  of  its  relative,  the  goat's-beard.  The  plant  is 
a  very  doubtful  native,  though  the  particular  plant 
from  which  our  illustration  was  taken  was  found 
under  entirely  wild  conditions  in  a  field  near  Scar- 
borough, being  sent  to  us  thence  by  one  of  the 
kindliest  of  nature-lovers,  themselves  a  most  kindly 
race.  As  it  throws  up  several  flower-crowned  stems 
from  its  tap-root  it  is  a  striking-looking  plant  and 
one  well  deserving  a  place  in  our  garden.  The 

1  "The  goat's-beard,  which  each  morn  abroad  does  peep, 
gut  shuts  its  flowers  at  noon,  and  goes  to  sleep." 

COWLEY, 


126  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

flowers  are  so  sensitive  to  sunlight  that  they  close 
almost  directly  one  brings  them  indoors,  but  when 
we  desired  to  sketch  them  for  our  illustration  we 
stole  a  march  upon  them  by  standing  them  in  water 
on  a  table  in  brilliant  sunshine,  when  under  its 
welcome  influence  they  temporarily  forgot  their 
severance  from  the  plant,  reopened,  and  gave  us 
the  opportunity  we  needed.  An  old  name  for  it 
is  nap-at-noon.  Its  more  familiar  name,  salsify,  is 
a  corruption  from  the  herbalist's  solsequium,  be- 
cause its  flowers,  like  those  of  the  sunflower  were 
reputed  to  do,  followed  the  sun.  Those  who  have 
grown  a  patch  of  sunflowers  will  speedily  have 
detected  that  the  great  flowers  are  by  no  means 
unanimous  in  the  direction  to  which  they  turn,  and 
the  flower-heads  of  the  salsify  are  no  more  of  one 
mind  than  they. 

The  salsify  is  really  a  plant  of  Southern  Europe. 
It  has  long  been  cultivated  in  England  for  culinary 
purposes,  but  has  now  in  various  localities,  in  moist 
meadow-lands,  and  especially  in  the  south  of 
England,  established  itself  as  a  wildling  and  gained 
recognition  as  a  member  of  our  Flora.  The  long, 
tapering  roots  have  a  sweet  taste,  and  were  formerly 
in  request  in  England,  as  they  still  are  on  the 
Continent  as  a  substitute  for  parsnips  or  carrots, 
and  the  young  stems  are  cut  and  eaten  as  one 
would  eat  asparagus.  The  salsify's  companion  on 
the  Plate  is  the  ox-eye,  or  moon-daisy  that  we  see  in 


THE  SPEEDWELLS  127 

such  abundance  in  the  meadows  before  haymaking, 
and  on  the  railway  embankments,  and  which  we 
have  already  referred  to. 

The  Veronica  spicata>  one  of  our  rarer  British 
speedwells,  is  the  subject  of  Plate  XII.  It  may  be 
sought  for,  which  is  not  at  all  the  same  thing  as 
finding  it,  in  limestone  districts,  and  in  dry  pasturage 
on  the  chalk,  but  it  is  exceedingly  local,  and  its 
discovery  is  a  decided  "  find."  Cambridgeshire, 
Norfolk,  and  Suffolk  appear  to  yield  it  more  freely 
than  other  parts  of  England.  The  arrangement  of 
the  flowers  in  a  terminal  spike  will  at  once  identify 
it  amongst  its  fifteen  fellow  speedwells  found  on 
British  soil.  Almost  all  the  species  should  be 
acceptable  in  the  wild  garden ;  I  many  of  them  are 
trailing,  and  quickly  cover  the  rock-work  or  hedge- 
bank  with  a  handsome  tapestry,  while  the  erect 
species  form  very  pleasing  masses,  and  as  the 
flowers  in  the  various  species  vary  from  pale  to 
deep  blue,  they  form  very  welcome  spots  of  colour 
amongst  other  herbage.  While  all  are  of  interest 
those  which  best  repay  us  for  cultivation  are  two  of 
the  commonest,  the  brooklime  and  the  germander 
speedwell.  The  former  we  must  plant  in  the 

1  Those  who  care  to  supplement  the  wild  species  by  a  visit 
to  the  florist  will  find  the  following  plants  very  serviceable  : 
Veronica  amethystina,  V.  aphylla,  V.  corymbosa,  V.  latifolia, 
V.  gentianoides,  V.  taurica,  and  V.  sibirica.  All  have  flowers 
of  varying  tints  of  blue. 


128  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

dampest  place  we  can  compass  ;  its  flowers  are  of  a 
particularly  clear  blue.  The  latter  needs  no  special 
consideration  ;  it  forms  large  tufts  of  slender  stems 
and  foliage  in  our  rock-garden,  and  flowers  freely,  so 
freely,  indeed,  that  at  a  little  distance  all  that  catches 
the  eye  is  a  mass  of  azure  blue.1  It  is  sometimes 
called  bird's-eye.  The  buxbaum  speedwell  is  a 
very  handsome  trailer  ;  its  blossoms  are  large  and 
of  a  bright  but  light  blue,  the  lower  lip  being  almost 
white.  It  is  very  hardy,  and  will  flower  almost 
throughout  the  year.  It  is  a  foreigner,  having  only 
been  observed  here  since  the  year  1826,  but  it  is 
spreading  rapidly  throughout  the  country.  It 
probably  came  over  with  clover  or  other  agri- 
cultural seeds. 

Another  very  welcome  blue  flower  that  we  must 
by  no  means  omit  is  the  borage.  The  plant  is  so 
thickly  covered  with  short  stiff  hairs  that  they  give 
it  a  greyish  appearance,  while  the  flowers  are  large, 
acutely  fine-pointed,  and  of  a  beautiful  sky-blue, 
the  dark  purple  anthers  rising  in  a  cone  in  the 
centre.  The  borage  is  really  indigenous  in  such 
parts  of  Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa  as  fringe  the 
eastern  portion  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  was 
probably  introduced  into  England  by  the  monkish 
herbalists.  However  that  may  be,  it  has  now 
thoroughly  established  itself,  and  may  from  time  to 
time  be  found  on  rubbish-heaps  and  waste  ground. 

1  "  The  floures  be  of  a  gallant  blew  colour." — GERARD. 


XXI 


MONK'S  HOOD 


To  face  page  128. 


BORAGE  129 

The  plant  grows  from  one  to  two  feet  high,  its 
stems  being  stout  and  freely  branching.  Though 
but  a  biennial  it  propagates  freely  from  the  seeds 
it  sheds,  and  so,  once  established,  maintains  its 
position. 

The  borage  was  held  in  high  esteem  for  many 
centuries  as  a  cordial,  though  modern  investigation 
has  decided  that  it  is  of  little  or  no  medical  value. 
Pliny  called  it  the  euphrosinum,  from  a  belief  in  its 
joy-yielding  qualities,  while  in  Wales  it  is  still  the 
llawenlys,  the  herb  of  gladness.  A  very  venerable 
old  testimony  declared  on  its  behalf  "  Ego  Borago 
gaudia  semper  ago,"  and  this  has  been  passed 
on  through  the  centuries  as  "  I  Borage  bring 
alwaies  courage."  I  Burton,  in  his  quaint  "  Anatomy 
of  Melancholy,"  commends  the  borage  as  a  preser- 
vative from  the  ills  of  which  his  volume  treats, 
affirming  it  a — 

"  Sovereign  plant  to  purge  the  veins 
Of  melancholy,  and  cheer  the  heart 
Of  those  black  fumes  which  make  it  smart "  ; 

while  Bacon  declares  "  it  hath  an  excellent  spirit 
to  repress  the  fuliginous  vapour  of  dusky  melan- 
cholic." As  all  through  the  Middle  Ages  every 
writer  on  plants  appropriated  the  ideas  of  every 

1 "  The  vertue's  eminent ;   have  you  no  Courage  ? 
At  any  time  revive  your  soul  with  Borage." 

GAYTON,  uThe  Art  of  Longevity,"  1659. 

9 


130  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

other  writer,  we  find  always  a  striking  unanimity  of 
testimony,  copying  being  so  much  easier  than  inde- 
pendent investigation,  and  if  the  patience  of  the 
reader  could  bear  the  strain  we  could  fill  pages  from 
the  various  authorities  in  praise  of  the  borage.  As 
samples  of  the  bulk  we  may  quote  from  Boorde's 
"Dyetery  of  Helthe,"  1542,  the  declaration  that 
"  Borage  doth  comfort  the  herte  and  doth  ingender 
good  blode,  and  causeth  a  man  to  be  mery,"  and 
the  statement  of  John  Pechey  in  his  "  Compleat 
Herbal  of  Physical  Plants,"  1694,  that  "the  distill'd 
Water  and  the  Conserve  of  Borrage  Flowers  doth 
comfort  the  Heart,  relieve  the  Faint,  and  cheer  the 
Melancholy."  Lovell,  1665,  gives  a  section  of  his 
treatise  to  "  Mirth  Causing  Herbs,"  and  here  again 
our  plant  finds  honoured  place. 

An  old  name  of  the  borage  was  the  corago,  from 
a  belief  in  its  value  in  affections  of  the  heart,  and 
we  are  invited  by  divers  authorities  on  plant  nomen- 
clature to  believe  that  the  more  modern  name  is 
a  corruption  of  this.  Others  have  it  that  the  name 
is  a  Latinised  version  of  some  Oriental  name  that 
came  with  it  on  its  introduction  from  the  East, 
while  yet  others  declare  that  the  hairy  nature  of  the 
leaves  and  stems  makes  the  Italian  word  borra,  the 
hair  of  a  goat  or  flock  of  wool,  an  obvious  deri- 
vation. These  are  not  the  only  suggestions  brought 
forward,  but  they  will  suffice  to  show  that  the 
meaning  of  the  name  is  hopelessly  obscure, 


USES  OF  BORAGE  131 

The  leaves  are  still  sometimes  put  into  beverages, 
claret-cup  and  the  like.  A  little  lemon,  sugar,  wine, 
water,  and  a  borage  leaf  or  two  swimming  on  the 
surface  are  the  constituents  of  the  old-fashioned 
drink  known  as  "  cool  tankard."  The  leaves,  too, 
have  been  boiled  and  eaten  as  a  vegetable,  so  that 
the  plant  was  cultivated  not  only  for  its  medical  but 
its  domestic  use.  Even  the  domestic  side  in  these 
old  recipes  of  herb-teas,  cooling  drinks,  and  the  like, 
is  rarely  entirely  divorced  from  the  medicinal,  for 
while  Buttes,  in  his  "  Table  Talke,"  1599,  strikes 
a  somewhat  convivial  note  in  his  assertion  that 
4 'borage  laid  in  wine  strengtheneth  and  cleareth 
the  heart,  putting  merry  conceits  into  the  minde," 
the  general  tone  is  rather  that  exemplified  by  Venner 
in  his  "  Via  Recta, "published  in  1650,  where  he  says 
that  "  it  appeareth  that  the  custome  of  macerating 
the  fresh  leaves  of  Borage  in  wine  is  very  good,  and 
chiefly  to  be  frequented  of  students,  and  suche  as 
are  subject  to  melancholy."  He  declares  too  that 
"the  leaves  boyled  and  eaten  in  manner  of  a 
Spinach  tart,  are  very  wholesome,  for  they  engender 
good  humour."1  It  is  rather  sad  to  reflect  that  all 
this  mass  of  testimony  rests  on  no  solid  substratum 

1  This  good  humour  bears  a  different  meaning  in  these  old 
writers  to  that  we  now  associate  with  the  words.  The  old 
physicians  ascribed  much  of  health  or  disease  to  what  they 
termed  humours,  conditions,  good  or  evil,  in  the  economy 
of  the  body. 


132  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

of  fact ;  that  thousands  of  folk  have  imbibed  decoc- 
tions of  borage  seeking  for  an  exhilaration  that,  if  it 
came,  was  vinous  in  its  origin  rather  than  boragic. 

The  agrimony,  the  egremoine  of  Chaucer  and 
other  old  writers,  may  well  occupy  a  corner  some- 
where, as  its  graceful  vigour  of  growth,  its  terminal 
spikes  of  small  yellow  blossoms,  and  the  beauty  of 
its  foliage  give  it  full  claim.  It  grows  boldly 
erect  to  a  height  of  some  two  feet  or  more,  and 
is  a  perennial.  The  calyces  harden  as  the  plant 
matures,  and  become  covered  with  hooked  bristles, 
forming  small  burrs  "  which  when  they  be  ripe 
doe  catch  hold  upon  people's  garments,"  and 
thus  aid  in  the  distribution  of  the  plant.  The 
agrimony  is  decidedly  astringent  and  tonic,  and  is 
used  in  rustic  pharmacy  as  a  gargle  for  sore  throats, 
and  a  tea  made  from  the  leaves  is  commended  as  a 
purifier  of  the  blood.  In  former  days  the  virtues 
ascribed  to  it  were  much  more  numerous,  so  that  by 
the  old  writers  it  was  called  philanthropes,  though 
some  prosaic  souls  in  these  latter  days  would  have 
us  believe  that  a  title  so  honourable  had  no  such 
origin,  and  that  its  love  for  mankind  was  only  shown 
in  its  clinging  burrs  as  they  attached  themselves  to 
the  rambler  who  brushed  against  it.  One  remedy, 
or  rather  recipe,  includes  it  in  a  mixture  of  pounded 
frogs,  human  blood,  and  other  choice  ingredients  as 
a  specific  for  internal  haemorrhage,  while  another 
authority  declares  that  "the  decoction  or  his  pouder 


AGRIMONY  133 

dried  is  an  excellent  remedy  against  the  oppilation  of 
the  Liver  and  Splene  by  reason  of  flemme,  and  is 
taken  either  the  Herbe  it  selfe  or  else  sodden  among 
with  Wine."  It  might  after  all  well  be  that  the 
oppilated  could  be  advantageously  philanthropolated, 
since,  while  it  is  easy  to  deride  our  forefathers  for 
believing  that  almost  every  roadside  plant  was  a 
specific  against  multitudinous  ailments,  we  must  be 
careful  not  to  go  to  the  opposite  extreme  and 
strenuously  deny  the  possession  of  any  healing 
virtues  in  our  native  Flora.  Botanically  our  plant  is 
the  Agrimonia  Eupatorium ;  and  as  agrimony  is  a 
corruption  from  argemone,  the  name  given  by  the 
ancient  Greek  physicians  to  a  plant  supposed  to 
cure  cataract,  while  the  second  name  is  from  Mithri- 
dates  Eupator,  who,  according  to  Pliny,  was  a  great 
medical  authority,  some  people,  at  all  events,  be- 
lieved pretty  strenuously  in  the  plant,  the  only  weak 
point  in  this  and  many  other  such  cases  is  as  to 
whether  the  plant  we  now  call  agrimony  is  identical 
with  the  plant  so  called  centuries  ago,  botanical 
description  and  illustration  being  often  inadequate 
even  in  much  later  days  to  the  identification  of  any 
given  plant. 

Any  one  who  has  seen  in  the  Summer  or  early 
Autumn  one  of  our  grand  old  country  hedges  one 
mass  of  the  white  blossoms  of  the  bindweed,  or  a 
strip  of  waste  ground  starred  over  with  the  delicate 
pink  flowers  of  its  little  relative  the  field  con- 


134  OUR  BOCK-GABDEN 

volvulus,  cannot  have  failed  to  have  been  struck 
with  their  charm,  and  will,  we  imagine,  desire  to 
introduce  them  within  their  own  domain.  We  have 
many  yards  of  it,  and  there  is  scarcely  anything 
more  beautiful  that  one  grows  than  the  long 
festoons  of  it,  laden  with  countless  blossoms  ex- 
panded in  all  their  purity  of  tint  in  the  early 
morning.  Though  ordinarily  having  these  beautiful 
campanulate  flowers  of  spotless  white,  it  may  at 
times  be  found  yielding  blossoms  of  a  delicate 
pink.  Of  these  we  have  had  specimens  sent  to 
us  from  Sandown,  Cranbrook,  and  elsewhere  by 
kindly  fellow  plant-lovers.  As  each  flower  lasts  but 
a  day  the  French  name  for  the  plant,  the  belle  d'un 
jour,  is  very  expressive.1  In  America  it  is  the 
morning  glory. 

The  bindweed  spreads  freely,  and  admirably 
serves  to  ramble  over  any  bit  of  rough  fencing, 
but  both  species  require  watching,  or  they  will 
take  possession  of  more  ground  than  we  may  be 
willing  to  spare.  In  the  names  bindweed  and 
convolvulus  we  have  the  hint  that  both  the  plants 
are  quite  ready  in  their  own  interest  to  lay  hands 
on  any  neighbour  and  flourish  at  its  expense.  The 
bindweed  may  sometimes  be  seen  running  riot 
over  the  gooseberry  and  currant  bushes  in  some 
old  neglected  garden,  and  under  such  conditions 

1  It  has  several  names  in  France  :  the  manchettes  de  la 
Vierge,  our  Lady's  sleeves,  grand  liseron,  and  others. 


XXII. 


r 


TUBEROUS    COMFREY    and    PURPLE    COMFREY. 


To  face  flage 


THE  LARGER  BINDWEED  135 

becomes  a  mere  nuisance.  As  the  roots  creep 
very  extensively  they  render  the  plant,  where 
once  established,  difficult  to  eradicate.1  These 
roots  contain  very  strong  medical  properties,  but 
the  results  obtained  by  their  use  in  rustic  medicine 
are  far  too  violent  and  uncertain  to  make  it  at  all 
advisable  to  have  anything  to  do  with  them. 

Botanically  the  bindweed  is  the  Calystegia  sepium. 
The  generic  name,  Greek  in  its  origin,  refers 
to  the  quaint  enwrapping  of  the  calyx,  and  its 
appropriateness  will  be  recognised  when  we  note 
how  the  five  sepals  are  almost  entirely  hidden 
from  sight  by  the  two  large  heart-shaped  bracts 
that  enclose  them.  Hence  one  of  the  old  names 
of  the  plant  is  the  hooded  bindweed.  The  specific 
name  refers  to  the  habitat — the  hedges.  Other 
old  popular  names  are  the  bell-bind,  withy-bind, 
hedge-bell,  and  campanelle.  In  one  part  of  our 
garden  we  have  the  bindweed  and  the  hop  en- 
twining together,  and  one  may  there  readily  note 
the  difference  of  direction  in  the  embracing  stems, 
the  former  always  twining  upwards  from  left  to  right, 

1  Maplet,  writing  in  1567,  declines  to  see  any  good  at  all 
in  the  plant.  He  declares  that  "  Bindeweede,  of  some 
Withweede,  is  an  herb  verie  noysome  and  hurtfull  to  the 
other  fruits  of  the  Gardaine.  It  hindreth  their  growth  and 
troubleth  them  with  the  inwrapping  and  circumplication 
about  ye  other  their  stem  or  stalk."  Another  old  writer 
equally  emphatically  denounces  it  as  "  an  vnprofitable  weed, 
and  hurtfull  vnto  each  thing  that  groweth  next  vnto  it." 


136  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

and  the  latter  always  in  the  reverse  direction.  The 
gardeners  have  developed  many  beautiful  varieties : 
one  of  these  we  figure  in  Plate  XIV.  It  rambles 
gloriously  for  yards,  and  in  one  corner  of  our 
garden  we  have  this  and  the  white-flowered 
bindweed  growing  together,  and  each  in  con- 
sequence adding  to  the  charm  of  the  other. 

The  sea  convolvulus — Convolvulus  Soldanella — is 
another  beautiful  species,  with  numerous  large  rose- 
coloured  flowers  and  rounded  fleshy  leaves,  but 
this,  though  common  enough  as  a  maritime  plant 
on  the  sand-dunes,  apparently  declines  all  cultural 
blandishments  unless  the  conditions  absolutely 
reproduce  those  of  nature,  and  this  problem  at 
fifty  miles  from  the  coast  is  entirely  hopeless.  We 
have  tried  again  and  again,  but  only  to  fail. 

The  small  convolvulus — Convolvulus  arvensis — 
thrives  on  light  soils  and  has  a  perennial  root 
which  penetrates  so  deeply  that  it  is  next  to 
impossible  to  get  rid  of  it.  One  may  sometimes 
find  that  it  has  gone  down  over  three  feet  into 
the  ground.  We  may  say  parenthetically  that 
one  scarcely  realises,  without  actual  experiment, 
how  deeply  many  plants  do  penetrate.  We  had 
a  great  clump  of  mallow  that  grew  rather  out  of 
bounds,  and  moreover  each  year  surrounded  itself 
with  a  vigorous  crop  of  seedlings,  and  at  last, 
after  several  ineffectual  attempts  to  dispossess  it, 
we  determined  that  we  would  literally  go  radically 


THE  SMALL  CONVOLVULUS  137 

into  the  matter,  the  result  being  that  one  plant 
that  we  at  last  dug  up  had  a  root  thirty-nine  inches 
long !  The  stems  of  the  field  convolvulus  are 
many  and  far-reaching,  spreading  in  all  directions 
and  often  prostrate  on  the  ground,  though  quite 
prepared  to  ascend  when  opportunity  offers.  It 
is  a  plant  that  is  often  to  be  found  in  cornfields, 
and  there  it  freely  twines  round  the  wheat  or  other 
crop.  We  planted  at  intervals  some  fifteen  feet 
of  an  earthen  slope,  that  was  about  four  feet  high, 
with  the  roots  of  this  convolvulus,  and  in  a  very 
short  time  they  dominated  the  whole  thing  and 
nothing  but  absolutely  pulling  the  bank  down 
would  have  got  rid  of  them.  Personally  we  were 
entirely  content  to  see  the  slope  a  mass  of  beautiful 
pink  blossoms,  but  it  is  entirely  well  that  any  one 
before  giving  the  plant  a  welcome  should  know 
what  they  are  committing  themselves  to.  The 
convolvulus  is  a  lover  of  the  sun  and  quickly  droops 
when  brought  indoors.  Our  mound,  some  five  feet 
wide  at  base  and  tapering  to  a  foot  or  so,  faced 
north  and  south,  and  the  whole  of  the  plants  faced 
the  one  way — the  sunny  aspect. 

Lest  our  proceedings  in  deliberately  planting 
wild  things  when  we  might  have  had  the  choicest 
flowers  of  the  florist  on  our  bank  should  suggest 
an  inquiry  into  our  sanity  and  subsequent  liti- 
gation amongst  our  heirs,  executors,  and  assigns, 
we  may  set  on  record  that  we  have  just  found 


138  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

with  some  satisfaction  the  following  paragraph  in 
the  "Flora  Londinensis "  of  William  Curtis,  a 
delightful  book  full  of  the  most  beautiful  and  lifelike 
illustrations,  published  in  1777  and  following  years  : 
"  Tempted  by  the  lively  appearance  which  I  had 
often  observed  some  banks  to  assume  from  being 
covered  with  the  blossoms  of  this  convolvulus  I 
planted  twelve  feet  of  a  bank,  in  my  garden,  which 
was  about  four  feet  in  height,  with  roots  of  it," 
and  his  story  ends  as  ours  does — "  they  quickly 
covered  the  whole."  Uncharitable  people  may, 
however,  still  say  that  this  happened  over  a 
century  ago,  that  the  world  should  be  wiser  now, 
and  that  his  planting  forty-eight  square  feet  with 
hedge  trash  in  no  way  condones  our  planting  sixty 
feet  in  like  manner.  "  In  things  essential  unity,  in 
non-essentials  liberty,  and  in  all  things  charity." 

There  are  certain  things  that  we  need  scarcely 
plant,  as  we  may  feel  assurance  that  they  will  in 
any  case  look  in  on  us.  The  red  and  white 
archangels  will  certainly  be  of  the  company  when 
once  the  news  spreads  that  there  is  a  bit  of  wild 
garden,  and  the  pimpernel,  and  many  others,  will 
soon  appear.  In  addition  to  this  the  mere  bringing 
home  from  the  countryside  of  certain  things  that 
we  have  desired  will  probably  end  in  our  uncon- 
sciously bringing  others.  Another  plant  that  is 
fairly  certain  to  appear  is  the  climbing  buckwheat. 
It  is  often  called  the  black  convolvulus,  though 


BLACK  CONVOLVULUS  139 

it  has  no  botanical  affinity  with  the  Convolvulacecz. 
It  is  a  great  climber  and  not  without  a  certain 
charm,  though  it  is  very  troublesome  in  the 
garden.1  Its  small  but  very  numerous  seeds  are 
very  acceptable  to  various  kinds  of  birds. 

1  u  If  this  small  Bindweede  meeteth  not  with  hearbes  or 
other  things  whereon  to  clime  it  riseth  up  but  a  little,  and 
leaneth  downe  againe  unto  the  ground,  otherwise  meeting 
with  fit  things,  it  will  winde  his  long  slender  threddie 
branches  about  them,  to  the  height  of  three  or  foure  foote  or 
more,  perishing  every  yeare,  and  rising  of  the  fallen  seede 
every  spring,  unlesse  it  be  continually  weeded  out  of  the 
garden/'  declares  Parkinson  in  his  "  Theatrum  Botanicum. 
The  Theater  of  Plants,"  published  in  the  year  1640. 


XXIII. 


YELLOW    IRIS    and    CORNFLOWER. 


To  face  page  141. 


CHAPTER  VI 

The  unexpected  springing-up  of  plants  in  most  unlikely  places 
— The  botany  of  a  London  stable-yard — Distributing 
agency  of  birds — The  Adonis-flower — Our  various  violets 
— The  sweet  violet  as  a  medicinal  herb — A  flower 
beloved  of  the  poets — Miss  North's  u  Recollections  of 
a  Happy  Life  " — Broom — The  fragrant  wallflower — The 
erratic  spelling  of  our  forefathers — Stone-crop — Blake's 
"  Compleat  Gardener's  Practice  " — Snapdragons — Toad- 
flaxes —  Curious  competition  statistics  —  Saxifrages  — 
London-pride — Moisture-loving  plants — Grass  of  Par- 
nassus— Sarracenia — Moneywort,  the  reputed  healer  of 
one  hundred  diseases — Various  un-grasslike  grasses  of 
popular  nomenclature — Loosestrife — The  cinquefoil  and 
its  allies — Ground  ivy. 

THE  way  plants  unexpectedly  spring  up  is 
often  very  curious.  We  saw  some  little 
time  ago  a  very  interesting  record  of  a  botanical 
"find"  in  Whitehall,  of  all  places.  The  Commis- 
sioners of  Woods  and  Forests  pulled  down  a  house 
on  the  eastern  side  of  the  street,  as  the  site  was 
required  for  some  improvements  that  were  pro- 
jected. It  had  no  garden  attached  to  it,  the  only 
open  space  being  a  paved  stable-yard,  and  on  the 

141 


142  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

demolition  of  the  house  the  leading  features  were 
brick-rubbish,  mortar,  and  the  like.  On  this  very 
unpromising  site  so  much  rosebay  sprang  up  that 
a  botanist  procured  permission  to  pass  the  hoarding 
and  examine  the  various  growths  that  were  freely 
blossoming  in  this  strange  position.  In  addition 
to  the  conspicuous  masses  of  rosebay  that  had  first 
attracted  his  notice  he  found  thirty-four  other 
flowering  plants,  besides  numerous  grasses  and 
considerable  patches  of  bracken.  The  agency  of 
birds  probably  brought  the  larger  number  of  the 
seeds  to  Whitehall,  while  others  would  be  con- 
veyed by  the  wind.  From  a  ball  of  clay  taken 
from  the  foot  of  a  partridge,  Darwin — one  of  the 
greatest  of  experimentalists,  and  therefore  one  of 
the  greatest  men  of  science — grew  eighty-two  plants 
belonging  to  six  different  species,  so  that  it  is 
evident  how  potent  a  means  of  distribution  such 
unconscious  transport  may  be.  Amongst  the  plants 
thus  found  growing  wild  within  this  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  Charing  Cross  were  the  charlock,  hedge- 
mustard,  shepherd's  purse,  chickweed,  pearlwort, 
clover,  great  willow-herb,  spear-plume  thistle,  bur- 
dock, May-weed,  groundsel,  colt's-foot,  dandelion, 
corn  sowthistle,  common  sowthistle,  gipsywort, 
ribwort,  knot-grass,  thyme-leaved  sandwort,  creep- 
ing-thistle, cat's-ear,  orache,  and  climbing  buck- 
wheat. 

Perhaps  one  of  the  happiest  of  these  accidentals 


ADONIS  FLOWER  143 

in   our   own   garden  was   the   upspringing   of  the 
Adonis-flower — the  Adonis  autumnalis — one  of  the 
most   beautiful  of  the   many  striking   plants  that, 
like  the  deep  blue  cornflower,  the  brilliant  yellow 
marigold,  the  poppy  of  intensest  scarlet,  adorn  the 
fields  of  ripening  corn.     We  had  never  seen  it  in 
the  district  before,  as  it  is  a  very  local  and  by  no 
means  common  plant.     The  petals  are  of  a  brilliant 
and  deep  crimson,  forming  a  cup-like  corolla,  while 
the  foliage  is  very  finely  divided  and  very  rich  in 
character.     This  rich  crimson  of  the  flower,  with 
its  darker  centre,  has  given  meaning  to  the  alterna- 
tive name  of  the  plant — the  pheasant's-eye.    Gerard 
tells   us   how   he   saw   the   plant   growing,    to   his 
delight,  amongst  the  corn  in  the  west  of  England, 
and   "from  thence   I   brought  the  seed  and   have 
sowen  it  in  my  garden  for  the  beauty  of  the  flower's 
sake."     The  Adonis-flower  derives  its  name  from 
the   legend    that    tells   how   the   favourite   of    the 
goddess  Venus  received  a  mortal   wound   from   a 
wild    boar    and,    according    to    classic    lore,    was 
changed  into  the  memorial  flower  r  that  still  bears 

1  a  When  the  flower  was  shed, 

A  flower  began  to  rear  its  purple  head." 

OVID. 

"  In  his  blood,  that  on  the  ground  lay  spill'd, 
A  purple  flower  sprang  up." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

Despite  two  such  authorities,  the  flower  is  not  purple  at  all, 
but  rich  crimson, 


144  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

his  name  and  by  its  vivid  crimson  recalls  his 
sanguinary  fate.  The  flower  is  in  France  1'Adonide, 
in  Germany  die  Adonis  blume,  in  Italy  the  fiore 
d'Adono. 

Several  of  our  plant-names  have  classic  associa- 
tions. Thus  the  pseony  is  so  called  from  Paeon, 
a  physician,  who  by  its  means  cured  Pluto  of  a 
wound  inflicted  by  Hercules.  The  centaury  is 
in  like  manner  called  after  the  Centaur  Chiron, 
who  was  famous  for  his  knowledge  of  medicinal 
herbs,  and  who  instructed  mankind  in  their 
uses ;  while  the  yarrow,  or  achillea,  derives  the 
second  of  these  names  from  the  efficacy  of  the 
plant  in  the  hands  of  Achilles  in  the  healing  of 
wounds. 

We  have  in  Britain  some  eight  species,  at  all 
events,  of  violets,  besides  others,  sub-species,  that 
may  serve  scientists  to  dispute  over  as  to  their 
more  or  less  good  claims  to  full  specific  rank. 
Several  of  these,  as  the  pansy  or  heart's-ease,  the 
yellow  mountain-violet,  and  the  marsh-violet,  we 
may  well  find  a  little  space  for,  but  the  sweet  violet 
—  Viola  odorata — is  a  sheer  necessity.  It  is  curious 
that  while  this  latter  is  not  uncommon  in  England 
in  the  woods  and  hedge-banks,  it  is  a  choice  rarity 
in  Scotland.  When  once  established  it  extends  in 
all  directions,  like  the  strawberry,  cinquefoil,  and 
other  lowly  plants,  by  means  of  the  runners  that 
it  so  freely  throws  out  Its  flowers  are  ordinarily 


VIOLETS  AS  MEDICINE  145 

dark  bluish-purple,1  but  at  times  reddish-purple, 
and  not  infrequently  white,  and,  whatever  their 
colour,  they  are  deliciously  fragrant.  It  is  curious 
that  these  flowers  seldom  mature  their  fruit,  the 
seed-bearing  capsules  being  produced  by  minute 
blossoms,  almost  devoid  of  petals,  which  come  on 
afterwards.  The  leaves  are  very  typically  cordate, 
heart-shaped,  and  with  toothed  margins. 

Many  plants  of  the  order  have  strong  medical 
properties,  and  the  roots  of  our  little  English 
violets  have  powers  so  pronounced  that  they  have 
been  used  as  a  substitute  for,  or  an  adulterant  of, 
the  potent  Ipecacuanha,  which  is  also  one  of  the 
Violacece.  A  syrup  is  also  made  of  the  petals,  and 
the  flowers  and  leaves  had  a  great  vogue  in  earlier 
days  as  remedies  for  a  great  variety  of  ailments, 
but  their  various  "vertues"  have  proved  more  or  less 
illusory,  and  the  chief  value  of  the  plant  now  is  as 
a  colouring  agent  and  the  yielding  of  a  fragrant 
perfume.  A  conserve  in  the  proportion  of  one 
part  of  the  flowers  to  two  of  white  sugar  is  used 
to  pleasantly  modify  the  flavour  of  medicines 
unpleasant  to  the  taste  or  to  render  insipid  and 
mawkish  ones  somewhat  more  agreeable  to  the 
fanciful  invalid.  Boorde,  we  see  in  his  "  Dyetery," 
published  in  the  year  1542,  gives  a  recipe  for  what 

1  "  Purpled  o'er  with  violets." — HOMER. 
"As  purple  violets  scent  the  ground." — CLARE. 
"  Violets  darkly  blue." — THOMSON. 
10 


146  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

he  calls  almond  butter.  "Almon  butter,"  he  tells 
us,  "made  with  fyne  sugar  and  good  rose  water, 
and  eaten  with  the  flowers  of  many  Vyolettes  is  a 
commendable  dysshe,  specyallye  in  Lent  when  the 
vyolettes  be  fragrant  :  it  reiayseth  the  herte,  it 
doth  comforte  the  brayne,  and  doth  qualyfe  the 
heate  of  the  lyuer." 

The  violet  was  accepted  by  our  forefathers  as  a 
symbol  of  constancy,  humility,  and  lowly  worth. 
Maplet,  for  instance,  recites  its  "effectuous  good  in 
working  "  and  points  out  that  instead  of  its  virtues 
making  it  conceited  "so  muche  ye  more  it  is  saide 
to  holde  downe  his  head,  and  to  bende  and  bow 
his  bodie  downward  to  the  earth,"  while  the  poets 
unanimously  sing  its  praises,  as  references  to  Barton, 
Carew,  Clare,  Spenser,  Drayton,  Shakespeare, 
Keats,  Shelley,  Milton,  Scott,  Wordsworth,  and 
others  will  abundantly  show,  though  we  cannot 
spare  space  to  reproduce  them.  If  our  readers, 
however,  like  to  take,  as  an  example,  Shakespeare, 
and  look  through  "Measure  for  Measure,"  "The 
Midsummer-Night's  Dream,"  "  Twelfth  Night," 
"  The  Winter's  Tale,"  "King  John,"  "Richard  II.," 
"  Henry  V.,"  and  "  Hamlet,"  they  will,  at  all  events, 
have  made  a  start  in  gathering  material  for  an 
interesting  literary  excursus  on  violet-appreciation. 

Visitors  to  Switzerland  in  the  early  Summer  can- 
not fail  to  have  been  impressed  with  the  wealth  of 
wild  flowers  on  the  mountain  slopes,  and  will  recall 


XXIV. 


To  face  t>age  146 


FRAGRANT    BUTTER  BUR     and     DAFFODIL 


CHARM   OF  RUEAL  ENGLAND  147 

amongst  these  the  yellow  violet — the  Viola  lutea — 
which  we  figure  on  Plate  XLVII.  From  its  asso- 
ciations, recalling  pleasant  holidays  spent  amongst 
the  mountains,  and  from  its  attractiveness  it  has  no 
difficulty  in  establishing  a  full  claim  on  our  regard. 

Those  of  our  readers  who  have  visited  Kew 
Gardens  will  no  doubt  have  seen  the  fine  collec- 
tion of  paintings  of  plants  by  Miss  North,  made  by 
her  in  Brazil,  India,  South  Africa,  Japan,  and  other 
countries  where  beautiful  and  interesting  flowers 
were  to  be  found,  and  she  finally  sums  up  her 
''Recollections  of  a  Happy  Life"  with  her  belief, 
founded  on  her  wide  experience  :  "  No  life  is  so 
charming  as  a  country  one  in  England,  and  no 
flowers  are  sweeter  or  more  lovely  than  the  prim- 
roses, cowslips,  bluebells,  and  violets  which  grow  in 
abundance  all  around  me  here,"  the  "  quiet  home 
in  the  country  "  for  which  she  sought  being  found 
at  Alderley,  in  Gloucestershire.  Here  she  spent 
the  last  five  years  of  her  life,  and  here  she  died. 

The  broom  should  find  a  welcome  from  its  frag- 
rance1 and  its  wealth  of  colour,2  since  a  plant  in 

1  "  Sweet  is  the  broom  flowre." 

SPENSER. 

"  We  sate  us  down 
Amid  the  fragrance  of  the  yellow  broom." 

WILSON. 
2  "The  broom, 
Yellow  and  bright  as  bullion  unalloyed." 

COWPER. 


148  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

free  bearing  is  one  mass  of  blossom,  and  is  con- 
spicuous on  a  hillside  a  mile  away  from  us. 
Chaucer,  Shakespeare,  Burns,  Scott,  Wordsworth, 
and  many  other  Nature-lovers  amongst  our  poets 
make  appreciative  references  to  the  plant. 

It  was  in  Anglo-Saxon  plant-lists  the  brom,  and 
our  ancestors,  finding  the  long  branches  of  the 
broom  rather  well  adapted  for  sweeping  purposes 
when  bound  up  together,  utilised  it  for  this  prosaic 
purpose,  and  called  the  manufactured  article  a 
broom  in  consequence.  Gerard  tells  us  that  "that 
worthy  Prince  of  famous  memorie,  Henry  8, 
King  of  England,  was  woont  to  drinke  the  dis- 
tilled water  of  broome  floures  against  surfets  and 
diseases  thereof  arising."  The  flowers  too,  "  being 
fully  blowne,  stamped  and  mixed  with  hog's  grease, 
do  ease  the  paine  of  the  goute,"  while  the  house- 
keeper will  gather  the  buds  and  "lay  them  in  pickle 
or  salt,  which  afterwards  being  washed  and 
boyled,  are  used  for  sallads,  as  capers  be,  and  be 
eaten  with  no  less  delight,  and  stir  vp  an  appetite 
to  meate."  Broom  tops,  before  the  utilisation  of 
the  hop  for  the  purpose,  were  added  to  beer  to  give 
it  a  bitter  flavour,  while  the  roasted  seeds  have  been 
used  in  lieu  of  coffee  berries.  Though  the  broom, 
once  established,  grows  sturdily,  one  may  find  that 
an  extremely  severe  winter  will  suffice  to  destroy  it. 
It  can  bear  the  searching  sea-breezes  better  than 
most  things,  however,  and  is  planted  on  the  sand- 


WALLFLOWERS  149 

dunes  to  keep  them,  as  far  as  possible,  from  shift- 
ing and  encroaching  inland. 

"The  rude  stone  fence  with  fragrant  wallflowers  gay," 

that  gave  such  pleasure  to  Scott,  will  appeal  no 
less  to  ourselves,  and  a  wallflower-less  rock-garden 
seems  a  thing  well-nigh  unimaginable.  There  are 
few  more  interesting  hunting  grounds  to  a  plant- 
lover  than  a  length  of  old  wall,  be  it  but  a  field- 
fence  or  some  venerable  castle,  centuries  old,  slowly 
crumbling  into  ruin,1  fringed  with  wall-rue,  decked 
with  the  waving  stems  of  the  dog-rose,  bearing 
their  wealth  of  dainty  blossoming  or  the  scarlet 
hips,  giving  shelter  to  the  hoary  viper's-bugloss,  the 
quaint  snapdragon,  the  patches  of  golden  stone- 
crop,  great  masses  of  crimson  valerian,  and  the 
fragrant  blossom  that  amidst  all  is  pre-eminently 
called  the  wallflower. 

To  ensure  the  successful  growth  of  our  plants, 
we  may  either  sow  the  seed  in  crannies  of  our  rock- 
work  in  August  or  in  March,  covering  it  over 
carefully  with  fine  soil,  or  we  plant  in  April  the 

1  "Yon  roofless  tower, 
Where  wallflower  scents  the  dewy  air." 

BURNS. 

"  Flowers  of  the  solitary  place 
Grey  ruin's  golden  crown." 

MOIR. 


150  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

seedlings  that  we  have  reared  elsewhere. *  The 
seeds  or  seedlings  must  be  well  watered  until  a 
good  growth  is  made,  but  when  fairly  established 
the  plant  has  a  most  persistent  vitality  and  thrives 
vigorously  under  drought,  searching  winds,  and  other 
hard  conditions. 

By  the  older  writers  the  plant  is  often  called  the 
gilliflower,  though  this,  in  the  erratic  spelling  of 
early  days,  may  appear  as  gyllofer,  gillofloure, 
gilofre,  jereflour,  jelliflower,  goriofilus,  and  other 
strange  variations,  all  yet  having  their  origin  in  the 
Latin  caryophyllum,  a  clove,  from  the  rich  fragrance 
of  the  flower. 2  '  Gariophilus,  his  floure,  of  al  other 
flowres  is  most  sweete  in  smell,"  declares  Maplet,3 
and  though  comparisons  are  generally  regarded  as 
being  odious,  we  feel  strongly  inclined  to  agree 
with  him.  Venner,  in  his  "Via  Recta,"  tells  us  that 
"as  gillow  floures  are  in  beauty  and  sweetnesse, 
so  they  are  in  vertue  and  wholsomnesse.  They 
notably  comfort  the  heart,  delight  the  braine  and 

1  Those  who  care  to  travel  beyond  the  wildling,  the  wall- 
flower as  nature  made  it,  may  obtain  from  the  florist  many 
excellent  varieties.     Amongst  brilliant  yellows  will  be  found 
the  Belvoir  castle,  Tom  Thumb,  or  golden  king.     Ruby  gem  is 
a  rich  red,  while  harbinger  has  large  showy  flowers  of  orange 
and  rusty  red.    Vulcan,  eastern  queen,  and  old  gold  are  also 
very  good. 

2  It  will  be  recalled  that  one  kind  of  carnation  is  called  a 
clove,  and  from  the  same  reason,  its  rich,  aromatic  odour. 

3  "  A  Greene  Forest,"  1567. 


STONE-CROP  151 

senses  and  revive  the  spirits.  They  may  be 
pressed  in  sugar,  and  so  they  are  good  against 
pestilential  infections,  the  palsie,  cramp,  and  such 
like  infirmities  of  the  braine  and  sinewes.  The 
same  floures  infused  in  vinegar,  and  set  in  the  Sun 
for  certaine  dayes  do  make  a  very  pleasante  com- 
fortable vinegar,  good  to  be  used  in  time  of  con- 
tagious sickenesses,  and  very  profitable  at  all  times 
for  such  as  have  feeble  spirits,  and  that  are  subject 
unto  swounings."  We  illustrate  the  plant  on 
Plate  XVI. 

The  stone-crop,  or  wall-pepper,  that  we  have 
already  referred  to  as  one  of  the  attractive  flowers 
of  a  rough  old  wall,  though  one  of  our  smaller 
plants,  is  a  brilliant  addition  to  one's  floral  finds, 
since  it  is  in  its  flowering  season  a  mass  of  golden 
yellow,  while  at  all  other  times  it  forms  a  beauti- 
fully verdant  cushion.  It  is  one  of  the  easiest  of 
plants  to  grow,  as  the  smallest  piece,  either  with 
a  root  or  without  it,  if  just  dibbled  into  the  ground, 
at  once  starts  and  spreads  very  quickly  and  freely. I 
We  tried  it  once  as  a  bordering  to  a  bed,  and  for  a 

1  "  Of  the  slip  it  is  propagated  by  setting  it  in  dry  banks 
or  on  stone  wals,  for  there  it  delighteth  most  to  grow,  and 
will  shift  for  itself  wherever  it  be  planted,  for  it  neither  careth 
for  heat  nor  cold,  but  abideth  its  place  alwaies." — BLAKE. 
The  extract  is  from  his  "  Compleat  Gardener's  Practice," 
published  in  1664.  He  had  great  faith  in  himself,  and  tells 
us  :  "  Search  the  World,  and  there's  not  to  be  found  a  book 
so  good  as  this," 


152  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

while  it  was  charming ;  but  it  never  knows  when 
it  has  done  enough,  so  that  we  repeatedly  had  to 
cut  it  back,  and  every  little  piece  that  by  inad- 
vertence fell  outside  the  line  quickly  started  afresh. 
One  of  the  best  places  for  it  is  along  the  top  of  an 
old  wall,  the  mortar  joints  finding  it  a  sufficient 
accommodation,  but  nothing  to  spare,  and  it  has 
then  perforce  to  keep  within  reasonable  bounds. 
The  leaves  are  small  and  very  succulent,  and  so 
biting  to  the  taste  that  we  entirely  realise  how  the 
plant  came  to  be  called  the  wall-pepper.  Bryant, 
in  his  "  Flora  Dietetica,"  tells  us  that  the  leaves  in 
some  parts  of  Europe  are  often  a  component  of 
salads.  Botanically  our  little  plant  is  the  Sedum 
acre,  the  generic  name  referring  to  its  close  adherence 
to  the  rock  or  wall,  from  the  Latin  sedeo,  I  sit, 
while  the  specific  name  refers  to  its  acrid  nature. 
In  France  it  is  the  pain  d'oiseau,  or  bird's-bread,  a 
by  no  means  happy  title.  A  much  happier  name 
for  it  is  an  old  English  local  one — the  golden  moss. 
The  common  name  stone-crop  explains  itself  when 
we  recall  the  favourite  habitat,  though  the  plant 
may  also  be  found  flourishing  on  dry,  sandy  banks. 
We  have  some  ten  or  eleven  species  of  the  genus 
Sedum  amongst  our  British  wild  flowers;  the  S.  Rho- 
diola,  or  rose-root,  the  S.  Telephium,  or  orpine,  with 
its  noble  head  of  crimson  flowers,  and  the  S.  ru- 
pestre,  or  rock  stone-crop,  should  all  find  a  place  in 
our  garden  ;  the  latter  is  the  yellow-flowered  plant 


XXV 


EDELWEISS. 


SNAPDRAGON  153 

we  figure  on  Plate  IX.1  It  is  one  of  our  rarer 
species.  The  white  stone-crop,  S.  alburn^  is  another 
desirable  rarity.  In  a  florist's  list  before  us  we  find 
fifty-three  kinds  of  stone-crop  catalogued,  having 
flowers  white,  yellow,  pink,  blue,  purple,  and 
orange. 

Pliny  recommends  the  wall-pepper  as  an  excel- 
lent means  of  curing  insomnia,  two  precautions 
only  being  essential  to  its  success — that  it  should 
be  wrapped  in  something  black  before  being  put 
under  the  pillow,  and  that  the  patient  should  not 
be  aware  of  its  presence.  From  the  days  of  Galen 
and  Dioscorides  it  has  been  held  in  medical  repute, 
dropsy,  epilepsy,  fevers,  and  divers  other  ailments 
being  supposed  to  yield  to  its  healing  power, 
though  the  modern  pharmacopoeia  knows  it  not. 

Another  excellent  plant  that  thrives  on  old  walls  is 
the  snapdragon — the  Antirrhinum  majus  ;  we  have 
figured  it  on  Plate  XL,  in  company  with  the  celan- 
dine. It  is  wonderful  that  with  so  light  a  holdfast 
and  so  meagre  an  amount  of  nourishment  the  plant 
does  so  well.  We  have  measured  one  of  our  plants 
and  found  that  the  central  shoot — out  of  several 
that  clustered  around  it,  and  were  nearly  as  fine — 
was  over  a  yard  in  height,  or,  to  be  precise,  forty 
inches  and  a  half,  and  this  was  growing  from  a  mere 

1  The  centre  flower  on  Plate  IX.  is  the  Geranium  nodosum, 
already  referred  to  in  discussing  various  crane's-bills,  while 
the  left-hand  plant  is  the  Spircea  tomentosa. 


154  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

chink  in  the  mortar  between  two  bricks,  and  main- 
tained its  position  throughout  the  year  in  broiling 
sunshine,  rough  gales,  and  anything  else  that  was 
going.  Galen  declared  that  the  snapdragon  was 
useless  in  medicine,  but,  as  a  valuable  set-off  to  this 
extraordinary  state  of  things,  the  plant  being  hung 
around  a  man's  neck — if  we  may  credit  Dioscorides — 
preserved  one  from  all  the  evils  of  witchcraft,  and 
gave  the  wearer  a  special  grace  of  manner  amongst 
his  fellows.  The  snapdragon  is  really  a  native  of 
Southern  Europe,  but  it  has  been  long  cultivated  in 
gardens,  and  has  strayed  thence  so  effectually  that 
it  has  now  become  entirely  naturalised,  and  takes 
its  place,  without  question,  in  our  lists  of  wild  plants. 
The  flowers,  though  ordinarily  crimson,  vary  at 
times  considerably  in  colour,  through  various  shades 
of  red  from  almost  scarlet  to  purple,  and  some  being 
a  delicate  lemon-yellow  or  pure  white.  We  grow 
them  by  scores  on  our  old  wall  by  planting  the 
young  seedlings,  when  an  inch  or  so  in  height,  in 
crevices  in  the  mortar,  just  adding,  to  give  them  a 
start,  a  little  more  earth.  Many  of  our  plants 
decline  our  help,  being  self-sown. 

Our  second  wild  member  of  the  genus  is  the 
A.  Orontium,  or  lesser  snapdragon  ;  it  is  the  central 
figure  in  Plate  VII.  It  is  an  annual,  and  may 
occasionally  be  found  in  dry,  gravelly  cornfields  in 
the  south  of  England,  growing  to  a  height  of  a 
foot  or  so  and  very  slightly  branching.  Our  plant 


THE  YELLOW  TOADFLAX  155 

came  from  Seaford,  in  Sussex.  The  flowers  are 
small,  rose-coloured,  and  only  found  near  the  ends 
of  the  stems.  A  notable  feature  is  the  great  length 
of  the  sepals.  It  is  really  a  plant  of  South  Europe, 
but  as  a  weed  of  cultivation,  the  seeds  being 
originally  bought  with  corn  or  other  things,  it  has 
found  a  home  with  us.  Gerard,  writing  in  1633, 
merely  states  that  "it  grows  wilde  amongst  corne 
in  divers  places,"  and  accepts  it  as  frankly  as  a  wild 
plant  as  any  other  in  his  book,  so  that  it  has  for 
centuries  been  in  our  midst. 

A  near  relative  of  the  two  snapdragons,  and  a 
plant  that  grows  equally  well  in  one's  rock-garden, 
or  on  an  old  bank  or  wall,  is  the  common  toadflax, 
Linaria  vulgaris,  throwing  up  a  compact  head  of 
brilliant  sulphur-yellow  flowers  with  bright  orange 
lips  and  long  spurs,  and  that  grows  fairly  freely  in 
most  country  districts. 

Some  little  while  ago  we  had  to  adjudicate  and 
award  prizes  on  the  best  collection  of  wild  flowers, 
and  after  we  had  done  this  we  took  at  random  the 
sets  of  twenty-four  competitors  and  analysed  their 
contents,  and  the  results  were  very  curious.  We 
suppose,  for  instance,  that  most  people  would 
imagine  that  such  plants  as  the  daisy  or  dandelion 
would  recur  most  frequently,  but  the  only  plant  that 
occurred  in  every  set  was  the  bird's-foot  trefoil,  the 
hop  trefoil — a  good  second — being  in  twenty-three 
sets  out  of  the  twenty-four,  and  the  toadflax,  red 


156  OUK  ROCK-GARDEN 

clover,  and  white  dead-nettle  coming  third,  each  with 
twenty-one  as  their  total.1  The  moral  is  that  as  all 
these  plants  had  to  be  named,  and  as  an  enormous 
number  of  people  entered  the  competition,  we  may 
take  it  that  not  a  few  folk  know  the  toadflax  when 
they  see  it,  and  to  know  it  is  to  appreciate  its 
charm. 

A  popular  alternate  name  for  the  toadflax  is 
butter  and  eggs,  the  lighter  portion  of  the  flower 
suggesting  by  its  colour  the  first  simile,  while  the 
deep  orange  lower  lip  is  very  suggestive  in  form 
and  colour  of  the  yolk  of  an  egg.  The  generic  name, 
Linaria,  is  derived  from  linum,  the  Latin  name  for 
the  flax,  the  leaves  of  the  toadflax  and  of  the  true 
flax  being  very  similar  in  appearance.  Though  not 
used  by  the  regular  practitioner,  the  toadflax  has 
long  enjoyed  a  reputation  in  rustic  circles,  applied 
internally  or  in  the  form  of  a  plaster  or  poultice,  in 
the  curing  of  various  ailments. 

We  have  in  Britain  seven  species  of  toadflax, 
while  an  eighth  may  be  included  perhaps  at  a  pinch, 
since  it  approaches  us  so  nearly  as  Jersey.  Those 
that  are  best  worth  cultivating  in  our  rock-garden, 
after  the  commonest  of  them  all — the  one  we  have 
just  been  dealing  with — are  the  pale  Linaria  and  the 

1  As  we  have  named  the  daisy  and  the  dandelion,  we  may 
add  that  the  former  was  absent  from  seven  out  of  the  twenty- 
four  sets  we  analysed,  while  the  latter  was  missing  from 
eight, 


OUR  SAXIFRAGES  157 

ivy-leaved.     The   first   is  distinctly   rare  and  very 

charming  in  its  delicacy  of  form  and  colour  ;  the 

flowers  are  white,  tinged  and  lined  with  purple  and 

pale  yellow,  and  slightly  scented.    It  seems  to  prefer 

a  chalky  soil,  and  if  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 

sea  so  much  the  better  ;  we  have  had  it  for  awhile, 

but  failed  to  make  it  feel  at  home  with  us.     The 

ivy-leaved  toadflax  was  originally   an   introduction 

from  South  Europe,  but  has  now  thoroughly  settled 

down  with  us.     It  thrives  on  old  walls,  and  those, 

preferably,  in  a  rather  damp  situation,  down  which 

its  long  and  slender  stems  trail  freely.     It  may  be 

readily  identified  by  its  little  ivy-like  leaves,  dark 

green  above,  often  purple  beneath,  and  of  a  rather 

fleshy   texture.     The   flowers   are   of  a  pale   lilac 

colour,   the  palate,  the  part  that  closes  the   tube, 

being  yellow.     Though  small  it  is  one  of  the  most 

attractive  of  wall-plants. 

A  rock-garden  without  a  liberal  sprinkling  of 
saxifrages  is  scarcely  thinkable.  The  British  species 
are  some  fourteen  in  number,  and  almost  all  of 
them  available,  but  if  we  like  to  stray  further  afield 
an  enormous  number  of  species  is  at  once  at  our 
service.  They  are,  as  a  rule,  plants  that  form  com- 
pact cushions  of  finely  cut  foliage  some  three  or  four 
inches  high,  sometimes  bearing  flowers  that  rise 
little  if  at  all  from  the  mass  of  leaves,  and  at  other 
times  borne  on  footstalks  that  project  distinctly 
from  the  tuft  or  rosette  of  foliage.  They  frequently 


158  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

grow  with  great  freedom,  quickly  covering  large 
patches  of  rock,  and  veiling  all  its  structure  beneath 
a  soft  padding  of  verdure,  so  that  if  one  has  suc- 
cessfully stored  one's  garden  with  divers  kinds  of 
saxifrage  the  day  is  not  far  distant  when  one  has  to 
curb  their  aggressions  and  relegate  somewhat  of 
their  exuberant  energy  to  the  rubbish-heap.  They 
are  ordinarily  very  freely  flowering  plants,  so  that 
in  their  flowering  season  the  foliage  becomes  almost 
invisible  beneath  the  wealth  of  blossom.  The 
greater  number  of  the  species  have  their  blossoms 
white  or  of  various  tints  of  yellow  from  a  pale 
sulphur  to  a  strong,  deep  colour.  In  a  florist's 
catalogue  before  us  we  see  that  one  hundred  and 
sixty-one  species  of  saxifrage  are  set  forth.  In 
some  of  these  cultivated  varieties  the  foliage  is  of 
a  delicate  silvery-grey. 

Though  we  have  described  the  saxifrages  as 
being  chiefly  white  or  yellow,  one  of  our  British 
species,  the  S.  oppositi folia,  has  its  blossoms 
purple  ;  these  are  large  and  ordinarily  very  nume- 
rous, so  that  it  is  an  excellent  plant  to  try  and  intro- 
duce into  one's  garden.  The  whole  plant  seldom 
rises  more  than  an  inch  from  its  rocky  bed,  but, 
loving  as  it  does,  the  pure  mountain  air,  it  is 
scarcely  a  plant  that  under  other  circumstances  we 
can  hope  to  successfully  and  permanently  rear,  as  it 
presently  dies  away  under  such  conditions  as  we 
can  only  give  it.  Its  true  home  is  amidst  Alpine 


XXVL 


SOLDANELLA    and    CYCLAMEN    NARCISSUS. 


To  face  page 


LONDON  PRIDE  159 

surroundings.  It  is  common,  however,  in  Scotland 
and  in  Northern  England  at  high  elevations,  and 
on  the  Snowdon  range  and  other  Welsh  mountains, 
and  it  is  in  precisely  such  localities  that  all  our 
British  saxifrages  best  prosper.  The  meadow 
saxifrage — S.  granulata — is,  however,  abundant  in 
many  parts  of  England,  and  is  an  easy  and  satis- 
factory plant  to  cultivate. 

We  have  grown  very  freely  the  kidney-shaped 
saxifrage.  It  is  a  plant  of  the  mountains  of  South 
Ireland,  but  specimens  sent  to  us  have  flourished  well 
within  a  few  miles  of  the  metropolis.  The  leaves 
are  reniform  and  toothed,  and  of  a  somewhat  dull 
green,  while  its  flowers  are  inconspicuous,  and  as  it 
grows  somewhat  rampantly,  repression  rather  than 
encouragement  has  been  its  fate  at  our  hands  of 
late  years.  The  best  known  of  the  saxifrages  is, 
undoubtedly,  the  one  popularly  called  the  London- 
pride,  a  native  again  of  Ireland,  but  so  thoroughly 
domesticated  in  cottage  gardens  almost  everywhere 
that  one  has  no  difficulty  in  getting  a  slip  to  start 
with,  and  its  exuberant  energy  of  growth  will  soon 
supply  us  with  as  much  as  we  want,  and,  perchance, 
even  a  little  more.  Like  the  stone-crop  and  some  few 
other  standard  favourites,  it  will  more  or  less  flourish 
in  smoke-laden  air,  so  that  one  finds  it  well  content 
to  adorn  the  scanty  plot  or  window-box  of  the 
artisan  immured  in  a  far-reaching  environment  of 
bricks  and  mortar,  yet  anxious  to  rear  and  tend 


160  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

some  little  patch  of  greenery  as  a  reminder  that 
outside  these  squalid  surroundings  lie  green  fields, 
and  country  lanes,  and  the  singing  of  birds,  a  pure 
untempered  sunlight,  a  sky  of  cloudless  blue.  The 
idea  naturally  suggests  itself  that  its  name  of 
London-pride  bears  allusion  to  the  willingness  of 
the  plant  to  share  the  hardness  of  metroplitan 
surroundings — hence  the  pride  felt  in  it  by  the 
metropolitans  themselves ;  but  the  real  truth  is  that 
its  proper  name  should  be  London's  pride,  after  a 
famous  gardener,  who  first  brought  it  into  notice 
something  like  a  century  ago.1  In  its  native 
country  it  is  called  St.  Patrick's  cabbage. 

For  the  saxifrages  and  many  other  such  rock  plants 
the  best  soil  may  be  compounded  of  about  three  parts 
of  good  loam  and  two  parts  of  fine  lime  rubbish,  the 
sort  of  thing  one  gets  on  pulling  down  an  old  wall, 
and  if  when  the  gardener  is  tidying  up  the  garden 

1  The  Timothy  grass,  so  called  from  having  been  intro- 
duced from  abroad  to  our  agriculturists  by  one  Timothy 
Hudson,  affords  us  another  good  example  of  this  class  of 
name  :  a  title  deriving  its  significance  as  being  commemora- 
tive of  the  introducer  of  the  plant  that  bears  it.  The  cud- 
bear, in  like  manner,  derives  its  name  from  a  Dr.  Cuthbert 
Gordon,  who  first  found  out  its  value  as  a  dyeing  plant. 
These  honorary  names  are  more  especially  found,  not  in 
popular  but  in  botanical  nomenclature.  As  examples  we 
may  instance  the  Begonia,  named  after  the  French  botanist 
Begon  ;  the  Lobelia,  after  Lobel ;  the  Fuchsia,  after  Fuchs  ; 
the  Dahlia,  after  Dahl,  a  Swedish  man  of  science  ;  and  the 
Magnolia,  after  Professor  Magnol. 


VARIOUS  SAXIFRAGES  161 

paths  a  bit  he  sifts  his  sweepings  and  adds  some 
of  these  to  his  mixture  he  will  get  about  the  best 
preparation  going  for  his  Alpines  and  such-like 
rock  plants. 

The  saxifrages  are  especially  plants  of  the  moun- 
tain regions,  and  if  we  go  in  search  of  them  outside 
the  limits  of  the  British  Isles  a  great  choice  is  open 
to  us.  Amongst  those  that  we  have  cultivated  we 
have  the  5*.  Rhei,  a  charming  pink-flowered  species, 
figured  on  Plate  XLIII.,  and,  companioning  it  on 
the  same  Plate,  the  delicate  little  S.  Cymbalaria. 
Every  plant-lover  knows  and  appreciates  the  ivy- 
leaved  toadflax — the  Linaria  Cymbalaria — that 
festoons  our  old  walls,  and  will  recognise  the 
similarity  of  form  in  the  foliage  of  these  two 
plants.  The  following  Plate,  XLIV,,  brings  before 
us  two  other  members  of  the  genus,  the  S.  Wallacei 
and  the  S.  Tombeanensis.  A  great  charm  of  all 
these  plants  is  the  way  they  form  dense  tufts  or 
cushions  of  foliage,  from  whence  rise  the  very 
numerous  flower-bearing  stems.  On  Plate  XLIX. 
we  have  another  charming  little  species,  the 
S.  aizoides,  the  yellow  mountain  saxifrage.  This 
is  abundant  in  the  mountains  north  of  England  and 
in  Scotland.  It  grows  to  a  height  of  some  seven 
inches,  and  we  are  bound  to  confess  that  our 
attempts  to  cultivate  it  in  a  Surrey  lowland  have 
been  attended  with  but  very  poor  success. 

On  Plate  XVIII.  we  find  figured  the  golden 

11 


162  OUE  ROCK-GARDEN 

saxifrage — Chrysosplenium  alternifolium — a  plant 
to  be  found  on  boggy  ground  fairly  commonly 
in  Scotland  and  much  more  rarely  in  England. 
The  golden  saxifrages — we  have  two  of  them  in 
Britain — are  closely  allied  botanically  to  the  other 
saxifrages,  though  one  or  two  differences  in  structure 
suffice  to  place  them  in  a  separate  genus.  The 
second  golden  saxifrage,  C.  oppositifolium,  is  very 
similar  to  the  plant  we  illustrate,  and  it  is  a  plant 
of  more  frequent  occurrence.  The  distinction  that 
at  once  enables  us  to  discriminate  between  them 
is  conveyed  in  their  specific  titles,  the  alternate- 
leaved  and  the  opposite-leaved  :  in  the  plant  we 
figure,  the  leaves  being  arranged  singly  on  the 
stem,  while  in  the  other  they  are  always  in  pairs. 
The  generic  name,  Greek  in  its  construction,  was 
bestowed  on  the  plants  by  Linneus,  and  signifies 
the  golden  plant  that  is  a  medicine  for  the  spleen. 
Gerard,  we  see,  says  that  "  the  vertues  of  the 
golden  Saxifrage  are  yet  vnto  vs  vnknowne,  not- 
withstanding I  am  of  this  minde  that  it  is  a  singular 
wound  herbe,  equall  with  Sanicle."  Why  he  should 
be  "  of  this  minde  "  he  gives  us  no  inkling  of.  It 
would  appear  to  be  what  schoolboys  call  a  "shot," 
not  even  rising  to  the  dignity  of  a  happy  guess. 

The  two  golden  saxifrages  are  each  great  lovers 
of  moist  ground,  and  those  who  would  cultivate 
them  must  give  good  heed  to  this  or  they  will 
find  them  quickly  perishing.  We  have  had  both, 


GRASS  OF  PARNASSUS  163 

and  lost  both,  from  want  of  a  sufficient  realisation 
of  their  insistence  on  abundant  moisture.  "It 
always  groweth,"  quoth  Parkinson,  "in  moist  places 
by  Well  sides,  or  other  standing  and  sometimes 
running  waters,  and  sometimes  also  in  moorish 
grounds.  It  flowreth  in  May,  but  abideth  greene 
all  the  rest  of  the  yeare,  and  perisheth  not.  It  is 
called  Saxifraga  aurea  of  most  writers,  from  the 
forme  of  the  leaves  and  colour  of  the  floures, 
scarce  anyone  well  knowing  whereunto  better  to 
referre  it.  Tabermontanus  calleth  it  chrysosple- 
nium."  J  This  passage  from  Parkinson's  "  Theatrum 
Botanicum,"  1640,  is  interesting,  showing  as  it  does 
that  either  one  of  the  species  being  so  much  rarer 
he  was  not  conscious  of  it,  or  that  the  two  species 
being  so  alike  he  failed  to  recognise  the  difference, 
and  therefore  writes  all  through  in  the  singular 
number. 

The  grass  of  Parnassus — Parnassia  palustris — is 
another  of  the  bog-loving  plants  that  specially  has 
its  home  on  the  mountains  and  moorlands,  and 
is  therefore  chiefly  found  in  the  northern  half  of 
Britain.  Its  sturdy  growth  and  large  white  flowers 
give  it  great  distinction.  We  have  had  it  for  some 

1  Linneus,  the  father  of  modern  scientific  nomenclature, 
did  not  necessarily  destroy  the  work  of  his  predecessors. 
Tabernoemontanus,  in  his  "  Icones  Plantarum,"  published  at 
Frankfort  in  1590,  calls  the  plant  Chrysosplenium,  and 
Linneus,  in  his  "Species  Plantarum,"  published  at  Stock- 
holm in  1762,  confirms  and  retains  the  name. 


164  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

time  successfully  under  cultivation,  but  only  by 
ceaselessly  giving  it  the  aqueous  conditions  under 
which  alone  it  will  prosper,  and  even  then  it 
appears  to  presently  miss  the  pure  ozone  of  the 
wind-swept  mountain  slopes,  and  succumbs  in  spite 
of  our  efforts  to  make  it  believe  that  a  suburban 
garden  is  practically  the  same  thing  as  a  Yorkshire 
moorland  or  a  spur  of  Ben  Nevis.  In  our  rock- 
garden  it  finds  its  home  with  the  royal  ferns,  forget- 
me-nots,  yellow  iris,  Impatiens  fulva,  and  such-like 
lovers  of  abundant  moisture.  The  plant  is  hope- 
lessly misnamed  ;  it  has  no  botanical  association  with 
the  grasses,  no  special  connection  with  Parnassus ; 
to  call  it  Fungus  of  Filey  would  be  an  equally  ap- 
propriate alternative  title.  Amongst  our  moisture- 
loving  plants  we  reared  for  some  time  several 
plants  of  Sarracenia  purpurea,  a  bog-plant  that  a 
friend  brought  us  over  from  Canada,  but  presumably 
our  English  winter  was  too  uncertain  and  change- 
able for  its  well-being.  At  all  events,  to  our  great 
regret,  it  presently  tired  of  us,  for  it  was  an  interest- 
ing plant  to  possess. 

Many  plants  commend  themselves  to  us  from 
their  utility  as  creepers  or  climbers,  the  first 
rambling  over  the  ground  or  lower  rock-work,  the 
second  ascending  tree -trunks  or  other  available 
means  of  support.  The  two  convolvuluses  that 
we  have  already  dealt  with  are  admirable  repre- 
sentatives of  these  two  sections,  but  there  are 


XXVII. 


CAMPANULA    PUSILLA,    BISTORT,    and    ONONIS    FRUTICOSA. 
To  face  page  164. 


MONEYWORT  165 

many  others  no  less  available,  no  less  acceptable. 
As  we  have  been  dealing  with  moisture-loving 
plants,  we  may  commence  our  consideration  of 
various  creeping  plants  with  the  moneywort,  as  it 
may  well  companion  these. 

As  we  wander  by  the  banks  of  some  stream  we 
may  find  from  time  to  time  a  rich  tapestry  of  the 
vivid  green  of  the  foliage  of  the  moneywort,  liberally 
besprinkled  with  its  golden  star-like  blossoms.  The 
prostrate  stems  travel  in  the  soft,  moist  earth  some 
two  feet  or  more,  and,  as  they  throw  out  roots  very 
freely  at  intervals  along  their  under  surfaces,  and 
branch  equally  freely,  they  take  a  firm  hold  of  the 
ground  and  quickly  cover  a  large  area.  The  diffi- 
culty in  the  garden  is  not  so  much  cultivation  but 
repression,  the  keeping  of  its  exuberance  within 
due  bounds,  as  a  piece  of  stem,  two  or  three  inches 
long,  deposited  on  the  damp  ground  will  quickly 
throw  out  roots  and  start  an  independent  existence. 
The  leaves  are  almost  circular  and  in  pairs,  hence 
one  popular  name  for  the  plant  is  the  herb  twopence. 
The  perhaps  better-known  name  we  have  first  used 
carries  with  it  the  same  suggestion  of  resemblance 
to  money.  "We  in  English,"  says  Parkinson, 
"call  it  Herbe  Two  Pence  or  twopenny  grass,1 

1  We  have  already  seen  in  the  case  of  the  grass  of 
Parnassus  how  a  plant  of  quite  different  nature  may  yet  be 
called  a  grass  in  the  popular  nomenclature  of  mediaeval  and 
yet  earlier  days.  Other  examples  are  the  glasswort,  called 


166  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

but  more  usually  Moneywort."  It  is  botanically 
the  Lysimachia  Nummularia,  the  specific  half  of  its 
title  again  reverting  to  this  suggestion  of  money. 
From  its  trailing  habit  it  is  also  sometimes  known 
as  creeping  Jenny. 

The  moneywort  is  a  plant  that  bears  removal 
from  its  sweet  rural  surroundings  to  the  murk  of 
town  better  than  most  things,  and  many  a  window- 
sill,  amidst  very  grey  and  depressing  surroundings, 
is  brightened  by  its  long  trails  of  living  verdure  and 
golden  blossoming,  while  its  name  Lysimachia,  the 
restrainer  of  strife,  may  be  taken  as  of  most  happy 
omen,  for  the  men  or  women  who  retain  a  love 
of  Nature  in  their  hearts  are  scarcely  likely  to  be 
the  bullies  and  brawlers  of  their  court  or  alley.  As 
Lysimachia  was  a  plant-name  bestowed  by  Diosco- 
rides  nearly  two  thousand  years  before  our  readers 
were  born,  its  identification  with  the  moneywort, 
and  other  plants  of  the  genus  to  which  it  belongs, 
may  be  regarded  as  at  least  doubtful  ;  but  it  is 
certain  that  this,  or  possibly  some  entirely  different 
plant,  was  held  in  great  repute  in  those  far-off 
days  as  a  peace-bringer  and  healer  of  bodily  and 
mental  suffering.  Hence,  too,  in  the  mediaeval 

by  our  forefathers  the  crab-grass  ;  the  vervain,  or  pigeon's 
grass ;  the  plantain,  or  rib-grass ;  the  forget-me-not,  or  scorpion- 
grass  ;  the  cinquefoil,  or  five-finger  grass  ;  the  hemp,  or 
gallows-grass ;  the  rue-leaved  saxifrage,  or  whitlow  grass. 
These  by  no  means  use  up  our  possibilities  of  reference. 
Our  list  is  intended  to  be  illustrative,  not  exhaustive. 


THE  LOOSESTRIFES  167 

herbals  it  was  called  serpentaria,  since  men  in  peril 
of  venomous  creatures  wore  it  for  safety  :  and 
centum-morbia,  for  it  was  held  to  heal  one  hundred 
diseases. 

We  have  in  Britain  four  members  of  the  genus — 
the  present  species,  the  common  yellow  loosestrife, 
the  tufted  loosestrife,  and  the  wood  loosestrife — and 
all  will  well  repay  cultivation.  The  first  three  are 
lovers  of  moist  situations,  while  the  last  is  a  little 
plant  to  be  found  trailing  in  the  woods  and  looking 
very  like  a  yellow  pimpernel.  The  common  yellow 
loosestrife  grows  by  the  sides  of  our  streams  to  a 
height  of  some  three  feet,  the  stem  terminating  in  a 
noble  bunch  of  large  yellow  flowers.  We  figure, 
in  Plate  XVII.,  an  interesting  variant  of  this,  the 
spotted  loosestrife ;  the  lobes  of  the  somewhat 
larger  and  more  saucer-shaped  corolla  are  edged 
with  minute  glandular  hairs,  the  sepals  too  are 
narrower  than  in  the  normal  form.  It  is  found 
more  especially,  and  in  association  with  the  type- 
form  in  the  north  of  England  and  the  south 
of  Scotland,  though  it  is  always  a  rarity.  It  is 
very  similar  in  general  appearance  to  the  common 
form,  and  requires  much  the  same  treatment,  though 
we  have  seen  it  flourishing  and  bearing  abundant 
blossom  some  distance  from  the  water's  edge. 
While  the  L.  vulgaris  does  best  in  the  open  sun- 
shine, the  L.  punctata  may  be  sought  in  shady 
places  under  trees. 


168  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

The  cinquefoil  is  a  charming  plant  for  the  wild 
garden.     Its  flowers  are  as  large  and  as  golden  as 
any  buttercup,  with  a  refinement  of  form  and  silki- 
ness  of  texture  that  those  popular  favourites  might 
envy.     The  leaf  of  the  cinquefoil — hence  the  name 
of  the  plant — is  composed  of  five  radiating  leaflets, 
and  is  like  a  very  diminutive  horse-chestnut  leaf. 
The  plant  is  a  notable  trailer,  and  roots  as  it  runs, 
so  that  it  quickly  covers  a  large  surface  of  ground, 
and  may  possibly  prove  a  little  too  rampant  for  the 
peace  and  well-doing  of  other  plants,  unless  every 
now  and  then  thinned  out  a  bit.     We  have  em- 
ployed it   as   a  bordering  to  a  flower-bed,  letting 
it   run   freely   along,    but   suppressing   any   lateral 
developments   that  would   tend  to   stray  over  the 
bed  or  path,  the  result  being  a  charming  wealth 
of    glowing    blossoms    and    delicate   foliage.      An 
alternative  name  for  it  is  the  five-leaved  grass,  and 
"  of    some    it    is   called    pentadactylon,"   while   in 
Germany  it  is  the  Fiinffingerkraut,  and  in  France 
the  quintefeuille.     Botanically  the  cinquefoil  is  the 
Potentilla  reptans.    The  generic  name  is  from  the 
Latin  potens,  powerful,  in  allusion  to  the  medicinal 
properties  of  this   and  some  other  species  in  the 
genus.      The   root   of   the   cinquefoil    is    strongly 
astringent,    and   was   formerly   much   used   in   the 
treatment  of  ague.     Turner  J  quotes   the   practice 

1  The  author  of  "  A  new  Herball,  wherein  are  conteyned 
the  names  of  Herbes  in  Greke,  Latin,  Englysh,  Duch,  French, 


CINQUEFOIL  AND  TORMENTIL  169 

of  Dioscorides,  but  adds,  "methynk  that  it  smelleth 
of  superstition  that  in  a  quartayn  the  leves  of  four 
stalks  should  be  taken  ;  in  a  tertian  the  leves  of 
three ;  and  in  a  quotidian  the  leves  of  one." 
Hippocrates,  centuries  before  the  Christian  era, 
declares  the  efficacy  of  the  plant  in  intermittent 
fever.  Though  now  discarded,  all  the  mediaeval 
herbalists  were  loud  in  its  praises.  Tusser,  for 
instance,  we  see  in  his  "  Fiue  Hundred  Pointes  of 
Good  Husbandrie,"  includes  "cinqfile"  amongst  the 
"necessarie  herbes  to  grow  in  the  garden  for 
Physick."  The  unanimity  of  these  authors  is  not 
altogether  surprising,  since  they  brought  little  or 
nothing  to  the  test  of  actual  experiment,  but  pinned 
their  faith  on  the  statements  of  Pliny,  Dioscorides, 
and  other  ancient  writers,  borrowing  copiously  from 
them  and  from  each  other. 

The  tormentil — Potentilla  Tormentilla — is  "  of  like 
vertue  with  cinquefoile,  but  of  greater  efficacy ;  it  is 
much  used  against  pestilentiall  diseases,  resisting 
putrefaction,  so  it  expels  poyson  and  preserveth 
from  infection.  The  decoction  of  the  leaves  or 
the  juyce  thereof  healeth  all  wounds.  It  also 

and  in  the  Potecaries  and  Herbaries  Latin  ;  with  the  pro- 
perties, degrees,  and  naturall  places  of  the  same."  The  first 
part  was  published  in  London  in  1551,  a  second  part  was 
added  in  1562,  and  a  third  in  1566,  these  latter  being  issued 
from  Cologne.  In  1568  these  were  gathered  into  one  goodly 
volume,  of  which  Queen  Elizabeth  graciously  accepted  the 
dedication. 


1?0  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

healeth  the  lungs  and  cureth  the  jaundice.  The 
root  powdered  and  mixed  with  the  white  of  an 
egg,  and  eaten,  heals  choler  and  melancholy." 
While  the  cinquefoil  favours  moist  situations  the 
sister  plant,  the  tormentil,  is  more  commonly  to 
be  found  on  heath-lands  and  open,  dry  commons. 
The  flower  is  cruciform  and  of  a  bright  yellow,  and 
the  foliage  richly  cut  into  fine  segments. 

The  silverweed — Potentilla  anserina — like  the 
cinquefoil,  is  a  great  runner,  and  may  possibly 
require  to  be  checked  at  times,  though  one  will 
hesitate  long  before  ruthlessly  tearing  up  its  masses 
of  silvery-grey  foliage.  The  graceful  form  and  curl 
of  its  long  leaves  has  caused  it  to  receive,  in  some 
parts  of  the  country,  the  name  of  prince's  feather. 
In  very  luxuriant  surroundings  the  plant  grows 
somewhat  grossly,  and  the  leaves  become  flaccid 
and  green,  losing  altogether  the  beautiful  silky  tex- 
ture and  delicate  grey  tint  that  make  so  welcome  a 
contrast  to  its  verdant  surroundings.  This  silvery- 
grey  naturally  suggested  its  popular  name  of  silver- 
weed,  and  its  less  common  title  argentina.  Why 
it  should  be  called  anserina  or,  to  quote  another 
popular  name  for  it,  the  goosegrass,  scarcely 
appears.  One  could  naturally  suggest  that  these 
names  arise  from  the  plant  growing  on  open 
commons,  beloved  of  geese,  but  the  old  writers 
discard  this  idea  and  declare  that  the  geese  when 
feeling  a  bit  out  of  sorts  value  it  as  a  medicine  for 


XXVIII. 


STONE    BRAMBLE    and    CLAYTONIA    PERFOLIATA. 
7b  face  Page  i~o. 


POTENTILS  171 

anserine  ailments,  and  that  the  name  is  a  recog- 
nition of  this  remedial  service.  It  is  a  plant 
equally  at  home  in  Lapland,  the  United  States, 
China,  Chili,  New  Zealand,  and,  in  fact,  most 
other  places. 

In  our  miniature  bog,  the  home  of  our  water- 
loving  plants,  we  must  not  omit  another  British 
species — the  P.  Comarum,  or  marsh  potentil.  Its 
flowers  are  of  a  dull  purplish  brown — a  feature 
which  gives  the  plant  a  curiously  distinctive  look, 
and  as  it  is  some  eighteen  inches  high  it  com- 
mands attention.  From  some  slight  peculiarities 
of  botanical  structure  that  we  need  not  here  par- 
ticularise, it  is  sometimes  placed  in  a  closely  allied 
genus  by  itself  and  becomes  the  Comarum  palustre. 
Theophrastus  many  centuries  ago  named  a  plant 
Comaros,  but  it  is  impossible  to  declare  that  that 
plant  was  the  marsh  potentil — in  fact,  we  have 
pretty  conclusive  evidence  that  it  was  not. 

The  strawberry-leaved  potentil — the  P.  Fragarias- 
trum — is  a  very  pretty  little  species,  its  leaflets  in 
threes,  and  its  white  five-petalled  blossoms  being 
very  reminiscent  of  the  strawberry.  The  hoary 
potentil  too — the  P.  argentea — will  claim  a  place 
in  our  collection  :  it  is  a  yellow-flowered  species. 
Nine  of  our  British  species  have  blossoms  of  this 
colour,  while  three  have  them  of  a  pure  white.1 

1  If  instead  of  taking  tin  box  and  trowel  and  searching  out 
for  ourselves  Nature's  wildlings,  we  put  a  few  shillings  in 


172  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

Another  trailing  plant  that  we  are  willing  to  find 
space  for  is  the  ground  ivy.  It  is  a  plant  of 
almost  every  country  hedgerow  or  roadside,  yet 
one  well  worthy  of  a  place  in  our  collection.  Like 
the  cinquefoil,  it  is  a  great  runner,  and  will  require 
some  little  controlling,  or  it  will  make  itself  even 
too  much  at  home,  but  one  will  gladly  run  the  risk 
of  that  to  add  its  rich  mass  of  foliage  and  heads 
of  purple  flowers  to  our  collection  of  wildling 
beauties.  If  we  have  a  little  extra  good  fortune 
we  may  find  a  plant  of  it  having  its  blossoms  pure 
white  instead  of  the  normal  purple.  The  whole 
plant  is  frequently  tinged  with  dull  purple.  It 
gives  forth  a  strong  odour  when  bruised — an  odour 
that  is  described  by  some  writers  as  aromatic, 
though  others  prefer  the  word  unpleasant.  The 
ground  ivy  was  esteemed  by  our  ancestors  a 
valuable  tonic  and  vulnerary  herb,  and  sufferers 
from  pulmonary  trouble,  dropsy,  dyspepsia,  and 
divers  other  ailments  were  duly  dosed  with  it. 
The  leaves  were  also  infused  in  water  as  a  substi- 

our  pockets  and  call  on  the  nurseryman,  some  thirty  or 
more  of  this  charming  potentilla  family  may  be  at  our 
service,  the  majority  having  white  or  yellow  flowers,  but 
others  crimson,  dark  purple,  copper-coloured,  orange,  or 
pink.  Thus  P.  atrosanguinea  has  blossoms  of  a  deep  blood 
red ;  P.  crocea  of  a  copper  colour  ;  P.  maculata,  orange. 
P.  nivalis  is  particularly  attractive,  having  white  flowers  and 
its  foliage  silvery-grey.  Many  of  the  florists'  potentillas  have 
their  blossoms  large  and  double. 


GROUND  IVY  173 

tute  for  tea,  the  decoction  being  sweetened  with 
honey  or  sugar,  though  some  rustic  connoisseurs 
held  that  liquorice  was  the  correct  thing  to  add. 
Others  held  its  bitter  foliage  an  improvement  to 
the  flavour  of  their  home-brewed  beer,  but  in  any 
and  every  form  it  would,  we  imagine,  be  a  rather 
nauseous  brew.  It  was  also  formerly  added  to  ale 
to  clarify  and  preserve  it,  or,  to  use  the  older  word, 
to  gill  it,  so  that  alternative  names  for  the  ground 
ivy  in  the  old  herbals  are  ale-hoof  and  gill-run-by- 
ground,1  the  latter  portion  of  this  later  name  being 
clearly  allusive  to  the  creeping  habit  of  the  plant. 
The  hoof  in  the  former  name  was  probably  from 
the  Anglo-Saxon  hufa,  a  garland  or  chaplet,  and 
this  in  turn  reminds  us  of  the  old  Latin  name  of 
the  plant,  the  corona  terrae,  "  because,"  as  Parkinson 
tells  us,  and  observation  shows  us,  "  it  spreadeth  as 
a  garland  upon  the  ground."  Another  old  local 
name  of  the  plant  is  cat's-foot,  its  rounded  leaves 
being  supposed  to  be  suggestive  of  the  feline  paw, 
and  in  old  herbals  it  is  called  the  horseshoue.  A 

1  Others  would  tell  us  that  this  Gill  was  the  name  of  a  girl — 
a  name  that  in  aristocratic  circles  would  be  Julia  or  Juliana, 
but  that  in  humbler  life  was  contracted  to  Gill.  It  will  be 
recalled  how  in  nursery-lore  Jack  and  Jill  wandered  off 
together  in  the  journey  that  ended  so  disastrously,  and  how 
the  rustic  saying  anent  the  old,  old  story  is  that  "  every  Jack 
must  have  his  Jill."  This  introduction  of  the  feminine 
element  in  the  name  of  the  plant  seems  to  need  some  little 
elucidation.  Another  old  name  of  the  plant  is  hedge-maid, 


174  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

rose  by  any  other  name  would  smell  as  sweet, 
and  whether  we  plant  ground  ivy,  ale-hoof,  or  cat's- 
foot  is  immaterial,  so  long  as  in  one  guise  or 
another  we  allow  its  verdant  garlands  a  modest 
share  of  space  in  our  wild  garden. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Blackberry — Poole's  "  English  Parnassus  " — The  stone- 
bramble — Dewberries — Hop — Tremendous  vigour  of 
growth — Hedge-reared  asparagus — Royal  command  to 
abstain  from  using  hops  in  brewing  beer — The  two 
bryonies — A  "  Lynyment  to  beautifie  the  Chynne " — 
The  "  Toilet  of  Flora"— The  fragrant  honeysuckle— Ivy 
— Destructiveness  to  ancient  buildings — Evening  prim- 
rose— Parkinson's  "  Garden  of  Pleasant  Flowers " — 
Thorn-apple  —  The  henbane  —  Lupton's  "  Thousand 
Notable  Things  " — A  salve  to  render  one  elf-proof  and 
goblin-free — Green  hellebore — The  purple  and  yellow- 
flowered  monk's-hoods — Necessity  of  caution  in  deal- 
ing with  poisonous  plants. 

FEW  plants  make  a  more  attractive  background 
to  one's  wild  garden  than  the  common 
bramble,  or  blackberry.  A  small  plant,  barely  a 
yard  in  length,  that  we  put  in  three  years  ago,  now 
covers  over  sixty  feet  of  wall  and  trellis,  or  about 
three  hundred  square  feet.  The  blackberry  throws 
out  long,  arching  suckers,  and  these  presently  touch 
the  ground  and  root  afresh,1  so  that  from  this 

1  Against  dysentery  take  a  bramble  of  which  both  ends  are 
in  the  earth  ;  take  the  newer  root,  delve  it  up,  cut  up  nine 


176  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

banyan-like  growth  there  seems  no  apparent  reason 
why,  given  time  and  wall-space,  these  sixty  feet 
should  not  presently  become  sixty  miles.  It  is 
neither  more  nor  less  than  a  common  wild  black- 
berry, but  having  a  southern  aspect,  and  being  en- 
tirely unmolested  by  impatient  youngsters x  the  fruit 
ripens  to  perfection.  While  we  have  no  hesita- 
tion in  declaring  our  plant  the  common  blackberry, 
we  must  not  forget  that  there  has  latterly  arisen 
a  section  of  botanical  students  who  have  turned 
their  keen  analysis  with  such  vigour  on  the  plant 
we  once  all  recognised  as  Rubus  fruticosus,  that 
while  some  tell  us  there  are  ten  really  differing 
species,  one  enthusiast  we  see  goes  so  far  as  to 
discriminate  forty-eight,  all  duly  marked  and 
named,  while  one  of  our  greatest  authorities,  a 
neighbour  of  ours,  tells  us  that  this  has  now 
grown  to  over  a  hundred !  Our  plant  is  depicted 
in  Plate  XIX.  It  has  this  year  yielded  us 
nearly  eighty  pounds  of  delicious  fruit. 

chips  into  the  left  hand,  and  sing  three  times  the  Miserere 
and  nine  times  the  Pater  noster.  Then  take  mugwort  and 
everlasting  :  boil  these  three,  the  worts  and  the  chips,  in 
milk,  then  let  the  man  sip  fasting  and  at  night  a  good  dish 
full  some  while  before  he  taketh  other  meat." — ANGLO- 
SAXON  MS.,  Brit.  Mus.,  about  1040. 

1  A  clergyman  of  our  acquaintance  having  escorted  a  large 
number  of  children  to  Epping  Forest,  found  one  of  his  boys, 
in  the  absence  of  ripe  fruit,  getting  the  berries  while  still  quite 
red,  but  on  remonstrating  with  him  on  the  uselessness  of  the 


XXIX. 


•  * 


CLAYTONIA    SIBIRICA. 


7b  /<7C<?  /te£tf  776 


MECHANICAL  POETRY-MAKING         177 

Some  would  have  it  that  the  generic  title  is  from 
a  Celtic  word,  reub,  signifying  to  tear ;  however 
that  may  be,  we  find  the  name  Rubus  applied  to  the 
plant  by  Pliny  and  other  venerable  writers.  Its 
power  of  laceration  is  a  very  obvious  property,  as 
hands  and  clothes  testify  readily  enough  after  an 
afternoon's  energetic  blackberrying.  Poole,  we  see 
in  his  "  English  Parnassus,"  a  book  published  in 
1657,  applies  to  the  bramble  the  following  epithets  : 
scratching,  sharp-hookt,  idle,  cumbrous,  prickly, 
entangling,  briery,  bushie,  bristlie,  biting,  catching, 
holding,  rough,  twisted,  tearing,  and  rending — a 
formidable  list.  The  book  is  a  sort  of  mechanical 
assistant  to  the  poet  in  search  of  ideas,  giving 
alphabetically  some  hundreds  of  words  and  then 
tagging  to  them  what  the  author  deemed  appro- 
priate prefixes.1  Many  of  the  noble  blackberry 
bushes  that  we  find  in  the  country  hedges  were 
no  doubt  planted  there,  their  prickly  character 
being  their  commendation.  Thus  Tusser,  in  his 
advice  to  the  farmer,  tells  him  that  he  must  in 
February  "ad  bremble  and  hull"  where  he  finds 

proceeding  the  boy  defended  it,  declaring  that  his  mother 
would  make  raspberry  jam  of  them. 

1  Thus  the  poet  desirous  of  referring  to  the  frog,  if  a  little 
rusty  in  his  natural  history,  has  at  his  option  any  one  or 
more  of  the  following  descriptive  adjectives  to  give  the 
necessary  vraisemblance  :  sprawling,  croaking,  loathsome, 
fulsome,  querulous,  complaintful,  noiseful,  yellow,  hoarse, 
fen-haunting,  shrill,  babbling  and  gurgling. 

12 


178  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

his  hedges  not  trespass -proof.1  Hull,  or  hulver,  are 
old  names  for  the  holly,  a  plant  no  less  prickly 
than  the  bramble,  and  a  quaint  old  black-letter 
treatise  tells  us  that  "  this  bushe  hyght  Rubus 
groweth  in  barreyne  londe,  and  is  beste  to  close 
gardens,  for  the  thycknes  of  multytude  of  pryckes 
letteth  2  and  holdeth  out  men  and  beastes."  Small 
boys  intent  on  bird's-nesting  will  no  doubt  also  have 
noticed  that  "  it  defendeth  foules  that  make  their 
nestes  therein,  as  it  were  swerdes."  To  grow  the 
blackberry  successfully  in  one's  garden  the  ground 
must  not  be  enriched  with  the  ordinary  dressings, 
but  the  sucker  should  be  planted  in  good  mould 
and  decayed  leaves. 

The  gardeners  here  and  in  the  United  States  have 
taken  the  blackberry  in  hand.  The  kind  known 
as  Wilson,  Jr.,  grows  very  strongly,  is  extremely 

1  Melton,  in  his  "  Astrologaster,"  published  in  1620,  moralises 
on  divers  plants  he  encountered,   and  tells  us  how  "  the 
Bramble,  as  I  walk'd  by,  scratcht  me  by  the  Legges,  which 
put  mee  in  minde  of  a  griping  Lawyer  that  never  meetes 
with  Clyent  but  hee  will  be  sure  to  fleece  him,  if  hee  doe  not 
flea  him." 

2  This  letting  is  the  old  sense  of  the  word  and  diametri- 
cally opposite  to  its  modern  use.    It  is  equivalent  to  hindering. 
Thus  the  Prayer  Book  speaks  of  those  who  are  u  sore  let  and 
hindered,"  and  our  old  author  goes   on  to   describe  how 
4i  Rubus  also  is  darke  and  shadowy  by  reson  of  hys  thyckenes 
and  lettethe  the  passage  in  of  the  sonne  beame  by  the  thicknes 
thereof."    One  inconvenient  result  of  this  is  that "  it  is  there- 
fore frende  to  adders  and  to  other  creeping  wormes." 


DEWBERRY  179 

productive,  and  bears  very  large  fruit  of  delicious 
flavour.  Another  kind,  the  "  Ancient  Briton,"  yields 
very  freely,  while  the  "  First  and  best "  is  not  only 
a  very  prolific  bearer,  but  begins  fruiting  very  early. 
The  "  Mammoth,"  too,  is  an  excellent  variety. 
Another  valuable  plant  is  the  "  Crystal  white": 
this  gives  a  fine  crop  of  creamy- white  fruit.  Another 
variety,  known  as  the  "  Iceberg,"  also  bears  white 
fruit,  and  is  held  in  high  regard.  Others,  again,  have 
double  flowers  or  very  richly  cut  foliage,  while  the 
loganberry,  a  true  and  permanent  hybrid  between 
the  blackberry  and  the  raspberry,  has  undoubted 
merits,  and  is  a  distinctly  valuable  addition  to  the 
fruit-bearers  of  our  gardens. 

The  dewberry,  the  plant  we  figure  in  Plate  XX.,  is 
a  very  near  relative  of  the  blackberry.  Botanically 
it  is  the  Rubus  ccesius,  the  specific  name  signifying 
bluish-grey,  in  obvious  reference  to  the  colour  of  the 
ripe  fruit.  The  popular  English  name  has  no  real 
reference  to  dew,  but  is  a  transformation  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  word  duua,  a  dove,  another  obvious  allusion 
to  the  purple-grey  or  dove-colour  of  the  matured 
berries.  As  contrasted  with  the  blackberry  the 
branches  are  slender  and  more  or  less  covered  with 
a  greyish  bloom,  and  rarely  arch  ;  the  flowers  are 
few  in  number,  and  the  narrow  calyx  segments  close 
in  in  much  more  cup-like  form  ;  the  leaves  are  of  a 
paler  green,  and  the  prickles  are  by  no  means  so 
much  in  painful  evidence.  The  berries  too,  while 


180  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

often  larger  than  those  of  the  blackberry,  are  built 
up  of  fewer  granules,  and  have  not  the  glossy 
appearance  of  those  of  the  bramble.  In  a  wild  state 
it  prefers  open  fields  and  waste  ground  rather  than 
hedgerows,  and  it  has,  with  ourselves  at  least,  not 
proved  itself  so  amenable  to  cultivation  as  its 
relative. 

The  stone  bramble,  another  member  of  the 
blackberry  family,  is  more  especially  a  plant  of  the 
mountain  slopes  of  the  north,  and  we  have  failed  to 
grow  it  very  successfully  in  our  Surrey  garden.  The 
leaves  are  thin  and  slight  in  texture,  and  generally 
made  up  of  three  nearly  equal  leaflets.  The  flowers, 
as  our  illustration  shows — Plate  XXVIII. — are  very 
small,  while  the  fruit  is  built  up  not  of  numerous 
small  parts,  as  in  the  blackberry,  but  of  a  few  large 
ones.  A  reference  from  this  figure  to  that  on 
Plate  XIX.  will  at  once  show  how  marked  is  the 
difference  in  appearance.  The  whole  plant  is  barely 
a  foot  in  height :  botanically  it  is  the  Rubus  saxa- 
tilis,  the  specific  name  signifying  that  which  dwells 
amongst  stones. 

The  hop  makes  a  noble  show,  and  when  well 
laden  with  its  masses  of  pale  green  clustering  cones 
is  distinctly  attractive.  It  has  immense  powers  of 
running,  and  grows  with  phenomenal  rapidity.  To 
test  this  we,  on  May  25th,  took  one  sprout  under 
careful  observation,  recording  each  morning  at  nine 
o'clock  its  growth.  On  the  26th  it  had  gained  four 


HOP-GROWING  181 

inches,  while  on  the  2;th  it  had  put  on  another 
four.  The  next  day  it  made  an  additional  six  and 
a  half  inches,  while  next  day  it  was  somewhat  idle 
and  had  increased  but  another  four  and  a  half 
inches.  The  more  or  less  propitious  weather  would 
of  course  tell ;  what  our  old  gardener  calls  "growy 
weather "  is  at  once  the  cause  of  more  rapid 
developments.  The  succeeding  daily  movements 
were  5,  3,  4J,  4J,  6,  7,  6.  It  had  grown  four  feet 
seven  inches  in  the  eleven  days  we  were  observ- 
ing it.  For  a  plant  to  grow  a  yard  in  eight  days  is 
rather  startling,  and  this  vigour  was  not  confined  to 
a  single  shoot  by  any  means;  dozens  of  others  were 
exhibiting  a  like  energy.  A  plant  that  we  have 
trained  against  our  house  reached,  last  season,  a 
height  of  thirty-seven  feet,  and  spread  out  laterally 
twenty-six.1  This,  there  or  thereabouts,  is  what  it 
is  prepared  to  do  for  us,  without  any  trouble  on  our 
part,  year  after  year,  closing  its  career  each  Autumn 
with  the  arrival  of  the  Harvest  Festival,  when  its 
long,  trailing,  fruit-laden  stems  are  a  very  welcome 
contribution  to  the  adornment  of  our  church. 

Beautiful  as  it  is  in  its  wild  state,  clambering  over 
the  hedgerows,  its  dense  masses  of  large  leaves  and 
constricting  stems  are  rather  destructive  to  other 
plants,  and  when  the  Autumn  fall  of  the  foliage 
takes  place  we  see  clearly  enough  the  mischief  it 
has  done  them. 

1  Good  hop  hath  a  pleasure  to  climbe  and  to  spred."— 
TUSSER,  1580. 


182  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

The  very  vine-like  form  of  the  leaves  and  the 
far-extending  growth  of  the  plant  led  some  of  the 
older  herbalists  to  call  the  hop  the  Vitis  septer- 
trionalium,  or  northern  vine,  and  probably  the  fact 
that  it  supplied  the  northerners  with  a  beverage  as 
acceptable  to  them  as  was  the  juice  of  the  grape  to 
the  southern  folk,  tended  towards  the  acceptance  of 
the  name.  Parkinson,  discoursing  "on  Hoppes," 
tells  us  that  "  these  are  more  frequent  in  these  colder 
than  in  the  hotter  countries,  which  sheweth  the 
goodnesse  of  God  unto  us,  to  provide  for  every 
Countrey  such  things  as  are  fit  for  the  sustentation 
of  life  :  for  where  Vines  grow  not,  and  the  water  too 
cold  and  rawe  to  drinke  simply  of  it  selfe,  there  are 
these  Hoppes  chiefly  bred  to  make  drinke  to  serve 
in  stead  of  wine  or  water." 

The  hop  is  what  is  botanically  termed  dioecious, 
that  is  to  say  in  one  plant  all  the  flowers  are 
stamen-bearing,  and  in  another  they  are  all  pistil- 
late, and  it  is  these  latter  plants  that  produce  the 
cones. 

Our  forefathers  used  to  eat  the  young  shoots  of 
the  hop  in  the  Spring,  "  after  the  same  manner," 
Parkinson  tells  us,  "  that  the  buds  of  asparagus  are, 
and  with  as  great  delight  to  the  taste,  yet  they  have 
little  nourishment  in  them."  Pliny,  too,  tells  us  that 
the  ancients  made  no  use  of  the  plant,  except  to 
ornament  their  gardens,  but  that  in  his  time  they 
ate  the  young  tops  as  a  vegetable,  As  he  was  born 


XXX 


CAMPANULA    PULLA    and    GERANIUM    ARGENTEUM. 


7'f  face  frige  1X2 


HOP  SUBSTITUTES  183 

A.D.  23  he  has  by  now  considerable  claim  to  be 
regarded  as  something  of  an  ancient  himself,  and  it 
is  interesting  to  note  that  as  we  so  regard  him  he  in 
his  time  looked  back  to  those  unfortunate  folk  who 
centuries  before  had  failed  to  realise  the  culinary 
value  of  the  plant.  The  leaves  of  the  hop  were 
made  by  our  forebears  into  a  kind  of  tea,  being 
held  to  purify  the  blood  and  to  be  of  efficacy 
as  a  remedy  for  ague.  A  decoction  of  the  cones 
was  held  "to  expell  poyson  and  the  diseases  of 
melancholly  and  choller,"  but  the  use  of  these 
cones  in  the  brewing  of  beer  is  the  application 
of  them  that  at  once  occurs  to  one's  mind  and 
is  the  great  cause  of  their  cultivation  in  these 
latter  days. 

Before  the  use  of  hops  as  a  flavouring  and  pre- 
servative of  beer,1  ground  ivy,  milfoil,  and  various 
other  plants  were  employed,  and  there  was  for  a  long 
time  a  considerable  feeling  against  the  substitution 
of  hop.  It  was  supposed  to  dry  up  the  tissues  of 
the  body  and  to  produce  melancholy.  In  a  MS., 
time  of  Henry  VIII.,  entitled  "  Articles  devised  by 
his  Royal  Highness  with  Advice  of  his  Council  for 

1  "  The  hop  for  his  profit  I  thus  doo  exalt, 

It  strengthened!  drinke,  and  it  savoureth  malt, 

And  being  well  brewed,  long  kept  it  will  last, 

^         And  drawing  abide,  if  ye  drawe  not  too  fast." 

TUSSER,  "  Fiue  Hundred  Pointes  of 
Good  Husbandrie,"  1580. 


184  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

the  Establishment  of  good  Order  and  Reformation 
of  sundry  Errors  and  Abuses  in  his  Household,"  one 
stipulation  is  that  the  brewer  is  not  to  put  any  hops 
or  brimstone  into  the  ale  supplied,  and  we  find  that  in 
the  reign  of  James  the  First  their  use  was  thought  to 
be  so  deleterious  that  their  employment  was  for- 
bidden by  an  Act  of  Parliament.  Bulleyn  (1562), 
on  the  other  hand,  declares  that  "  this  Beere  is  very 
good  for  flegmatike  men,"  and  Gerard  (1597)  pro- 
tests that  "the  manifold  vertues  of  hops  do  manifestly 
argue  the  wholesomeness  of  Beere,  for  the  hoppes 
rather  make  it  a  physical!  drinke  to  keepe  the  body 
in  health  than  an  ordinary  drinke  for  the  quenching 
of  thirst." 

The  use  of  hops  in  England  for  brewing  seems  to 
date  from  about  1 500,  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  for 
culinary  or  medical  reasons  the  plant  was  in  esteem 
centuries  before.  In  mediaeval  days  one  way  of 
raising  money  for  ecclesiastical  purposes  was  the 
church  house  of  the  parish.  This,  at  fair  and  festival 
time,  was  often  let  to  merchants,  showmen  and  others, 
and  the  ale  brewed  and  sold  there  also  brought 
in  a  considerable  revenue.  In  the  churchwardens' 
accounts  we  find  such  items  as  "  Received  for  the 
hye  cross  ale  xxxs  iijd. — Hoppes  for  last  brewing, 
iiijd. — Made  with  our  ale  at  Wytt  Sonday  xls." 
These  items  date  1512,  1513,  and  1514.  Another 
item  is :  "  Received  of  the  Egypcions  for  the 
church  house  xxd."  These  visitors  were  a  band 


HOP-GROWING  IN  ENGLAND  185 

of  wandering  gipsies  arriving  at  fair-time  to  tell  the 
country  folk  their  fortunes.1 

It  is  sometimes  stated  that  the  hop  was  brought 
to  England  from  the  Netherlands,  but  there  seems 
no  reason  to  doubt  that  the  plant  is  indigenous. 
The  first  English  writer  on  hop-culture  was  one 
Scot,  who  in  the  year  1574  published  "  A  Perfite 
Platforme  of  a  Hoppe  Garden."  Our  supplies  until 
then  had  been  mainly  drawn  from  the  Netherlands, 
and  he  patriotically  points  out  that  there  was  no 
necessity  for  bringing  from  abroad  the  hops  that 
we  could  quite  easily  grow  ourselves.  "The 
Flemings,"  he  declares,  "envie  our  practice  herein, 
who  altogether  seek  their  owne  profite,  to  cramme 
us  with  the  wares  and  fruites  of  their  countrie, 
dazeling  us  with  the  discommendation  of  our  soyle, 
obscuring  and  falsifying,  and  sending  us  into 
Flanders  for  that  whiche  we  may  finde  at  home 
in  our  own  banksides."  On  reference  to  Harrison's 
"  Description  of  England,"  a  book  published  in 
1587,  we  find  that  Scot's  appeal  had  borne  good 
fruit,  since  we  find  him  declaring  that,  "  Of  late 

1  "  Divers  and  many  outlandish  people  calling  themselves 
Egyptians,  using  no  craft  or  feat  of  merchandize,  have  come 
into  this  realme,  and  gone  from  shire  to  shire,  and  place 
to  place,  in  great  company,  and  used  great  subtil  and  crafty 
means  to  deceive  the  people,  bearing  them  in  hand  that  they 
by  palmistry  could  tell  men's  and  women's  fortunes,  and  so 
many  times  by  subtilty  have  deceived  the  people  of  their 
money  "  (Portion  of  Act  of  Parliament  fulminated  against 
these  wanderers  in  reign  of  Henry  VIII.). 


186  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

yeares  also  we  haue  found  and  taken  vp  a  great 
trade  in  planting  of  hops,  whereof  our  moorie 
hitherto  and  vnprofitable  grounds  doo  yeeld  such 
plentie  and  increase  that  there  are  few  farmers  or 
occupiers  in  the  countrie,  which  haue  not  gardens 
and  hops  growing  of  their  owne,  and  those  farre 
better  than  doo  come  from  Flanders  vnto  vs. 
Certes  the  corruptions  vsed  by  the  Flemings,  and 
forgerie  dailie  practised  in  this  kind  of  ware,  gaue 
vs  occasion  to  plant  them  here  at  home  ;  so  that 
now  we  may  spare  and  send  manie  ouer  vnto  them. 
And  this  I  know  by  experience  that  some  one  man 
by  conuersion  of  his  moorie  grounds  into  hopyards, 
wherof  before  he  had  no  commoditie,  dooth  raise 
yearelie  by  so  little  as  twelue  acres  in  compasse  two 
hundred  markes ;  all  charges  borne  toward  the 
maintenance  of  his  familie.  Which  industrie  God 
continue !  Though  some  secret  freends  of  Flemings 
let  not  to  exclaime  against  this  commoditie,  as  a 
spoile  of  wood,  by  reason  of  the  poles,  which  neuer- 
theless  after  three  yeares  doo  also  come  to  the  fire, 
and  spare  their  other  fewell." 

Hartlib,  in  his  "Complete  Husbandman  "  (1569), 
demolishes  anew  the  trade-born  myth  that  "it  is 
one  of  the  great  deficiencies  of  England  thathopps 
will  not  grow,"  and  sums  up  triumphantly — 
"whereas  it  is  now  known  that  they  are  the  best  in 
the  world  "  ;  a  complete  rehabilitation  of  our  home- 
grown produce. 


WHITE  BRYONY  187 

The  two  species  of  bryony  must  certainly  find 
a  place  in  our  wild  garden.  They  are  distin- 
guished as  the  white  or  red-berried,  and  the 
black.  Though  so  similar  in  name  they  are 
entirely  different  plants  in  appearance  and 
botanical  affinity.  Both  are  climbing  plants  bear- 
ing a  large  number  of  richly  coloured  berries. 

In  the  white  bryony  the  foliage  is  quaintly 
angular  and  somewhat  vine-like,  and  the  plant 
supports  itself  by  numerous  tendrils,  so  that  the 
stems,  wandering  for  yards,  take  entire  possession 
of  the  hedgerow.  As  the  root-stock  is  perennial  the 
plant  is  to  the  fore  each  year,  so  with  each  recur- 
ring season  it  clothes  with  welcome  regularity  a 
long  piece  of  our  trellis  with  abundance  of  beautiful 
foliage,  with  rich  clusters  of  berries,  first  green,  then 
yellow,  presently  orange,  and  finally  crimson ;  the 
fruit  in  all  these  varying  tints,  consequent  on  vary- 
ing degrees  of  ripeness,  being  found  together  on 
the  plant.  The  white  bryony  grows  with  great 
rapidity,  as  its  name,  Greek  in  its  origin,  testifies. 
The  flowers  are  small  and  pale  green  in  colour, 
some  being  stamen-bearing  and  others  pistilliferous  : 
the  latter  alone  yield  the  fruit. 

The  white  bryony  is  common  enough  in  most 
parts  of  England,  but  Scotland  and  Ireland  would 
appear  to  know  it  not.  The  root  is  very  large,  so 
that  it  is  somewhat  difficult  to  transfer  the  plant 
from  the  hedgerow  to  the  garden.  We  have  hope- 


188  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

lessly  damaged  several  in  the  attempt  to  do  so,  so 
that  when  we  have  once  safely  transplanted  it,  it 
should  not,  without  weighty  reason,  be  shifted  again. 
Like  most  other  things,  the  bryony  was  held  by  our 
forefathers  in  esteem  as  a  remedy — "  those  that  have 
the  dropsie,  the  falling  sickenesse,  and  dizzinesse  of 
the  brain,  that  is  long  continued  and  hardly  to  be 
remoued,"  looking  to  it  for  relief.  Pechey,  in  his 
"Compleat  Herbal,"  1694,  advises  to  "take  what 
quantity  of  the  Rootes  of  red  beried  Briony  you 
please,  slice  them  and  press  out  the  Juice  :  this 
being  kept  in  Vessels  unmov'd  will  in  a  few  hours 
deposit  the  Lees,  which  being  separated  by  pouring 
the  Water  away  gently,  must  be  dried  in  a  glass 
vessell.  They  are  used  in  a  Dropsie.'7  Great 
caution  is  necessary  in  using  the  root :  deaths  have 
been  several  times  recorded  in  the  medical  books 
from  its  employment  by  village  herbalists.  The 
French  call  the  plant  the  navet  du  Diable,  which 
sufficiently  testifies  to  their  belief  in  its  violent  and 
dangerous  properties. 

Mizaldus,  a  very  venerable  author,  appeals  to 
those  who  would  "  beautifie  the  chynne  with  fine 
heaire "  to  "  take  butter  without  salt,  the  iuyce  of 
a  redde  onion,  the  grease  of  a  Badger,  the  rootes  of 
Briony,  of  Beetes,  of  Radysh,  and  of  whyte  Lyllies." 
These  various  ingredients  they  are  to  make  into  a 
"  Lynyment,  and  annoy nt  the  chyn  often  therewith, 
being  shauen."  In  a  popular  book,  the  "  Toilet  of 


xxxi 


CAMPANULA    REINERI,    DIANTHUS    DELTOIDES,    and 
RHODODENDRON     HIRSUTUM. 


To  face  page  188. 


BLACK  BRYONY  189 

Flora,"1  published  in  1784,  we  find  the  bryony  root 
again  in  demand,  this  time  "  to  dye  the  hair  of  a 
flaxen  colour."  As  the  prescription  includes  also 
vine- twigs,  lily,  celandine,  and  saffron  roots,  the 
flowers  of  mullein,  broom,  and  St.  John's-wort,  it 
is,  perhaps,  a  little  difficult  to  assign  to  each 
ingredient  its  share  in  the  total  result. 

The  mediaeval  carvers  of  the  fourteenth  century 
were  fully  appreciative  of  the  charm  of  the  red- 
berried  bryony,  and  introduced  it  very  effectively  : 
we  remember  seeing  in  the  Cathedral  of  Rouen  a 
particularly  charming  example,  a  running  moulding, 
where  the  berries,  tendrils,  and  foliage  were  intro- 
duced with  evident  appreciation  of  their  artistic 
value. 

The  black  bryony,  no  less  admirable  a  climber, 
may  be  readily  recognised  by  its  large  heart-shaped 
and  glossy  leaves.  The  flowers  are  small  and 
greenish-white  in  colour,  and  growing  in  long 
clusters,  each  plant  bearing  flowers  of  but  one  sex. 
The  berries  are  large  in  size,  and  dark  red  in  colour, 
and  remain  in  conspicuous  bunches  after  the  leaves 
have  decayed.  The  young  shoots  have  sometimes 
been  eaten,  dressed  like  asparagus,  and  the  root, 

1  "  A  Collection  of  the  most  Simple  and  Approved  Methods 
of  Preparing  Essences,  Pomatums,  Powders,  Perfumes,  and 
Sweet-Scented  Waters,  with  Receipts  for  Cosmetics  of  every 
kind  that  can  smooth  and  brighten  the  Skin,  give  force  to 
Beauty,  and  take  off  the  Appearance  of  Old  Age  and  Decay. 
For  the  Use  of  the  Ladies." 


190  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

bruised,  is  reputed  to  have  done  good  service  in 
asthmatic  and  paralytic  cases.  It  is  a  near  relative, 
botanically,  to  the  yam  that  is  eaten  so  freely  in 
tropical  countries,  but  we  must  not  too  hastily 
assume  that  because  certain  plants  in  a  bota- 
nical order  are  harmless,  the  others  are  equally 
open  to  our  use.  The  carrot  and  the  hemlock 
are  closely  related,  but  are  by  no  means  inter- 
changeable when  culinary  matters  are  under  con- 
sideration. 

In  the  introduction  of  all  climbers  we  must  pause 
to  consider  how  far  we  are  prepared  to  go  on  their 
behalf,  what  amount  of  sacrifice  we  are  willing 
to  make.  Whether  it  be  convolvulus,  clematis, 
bryony,  hop,  or  honeysuckle,  its  first  and  only 
thought  is  self-interest :  the  survival  of  the  fittest — 
and  it  will  make  very  strenuous  efforts  to  be  the 
fittest.  We  have  seen  a  tree,  some  twenty  feet  in 
height,  a  mass,  to  the  eye,  of  bryony,  and  very 
beautiful  it  looked ;  and  one  may  see  yards  of 
hedgerow  in  the  close  embrace  of  the  bindweed, 
and  very  charming  the  long  festoons  of  great 
white  bell-flowers  look ;  but  both  tree  and  hedge 
are  much  the  worse  for  playing  host,  and  when 
Summer  is  over,  and  the  long  trails  of  creeper 
have  withered  away,  what  remains  is  often  but  a 
sorry  sight. 

Another  climber  that  it  is  essential  we  should 
make  room  for  is  the  honeysuckle,  or  woodbine, 


HONEYSUCKLE  191 

its  grace  and  delicious  fragrance  l  rendering  it  a 
general  favourite :  a  visit  to  some  rural  woodland 
will  readily  place  us  in  possession  of  healthy  young 
plants,  and  these  will  quickly  establish  themselves 
and  cover  a  large  surface,  anything  up  to  a  run  of 
twenty  feet  or  so  being  a  pleasant  probability.  The 
popular  name,  honeysuckle,  is  a  testimony  to  the 
wealth  of  nectar  borne  at  the  base  of  the  fragrant 
tubular  flowers,  which  any  country  child  will  teach 
us  how  to  extract,2  while  the  name  woodbine,  per- 
haps less  commonly  used  nowadays,  was  obviously 
bestowed  upon  the  plants  from  the  binding  power 
of  the  stems.  Shakespeare  writes  :  "  So  doth  the 
Woodbine,  the  Sweet  Honeysucke,  gently  entwist," 
but  one  may  often  see  the  stems  of  hazel  and  other 
hedgerow  trees  deeply  furrowed  from  the  constric- 
tion that  they  have  undergone — a  vigorous  com- 
pression that  goes  considerably  beyond  the  gentle 
adherence  that  is  all  that  the  poet  admits.  This 
twining  is  in  the  same  direction  around  the  support- 

1  4<  O'er-canopied  with  luscious  woodbine." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

"  Round  the  young  ash  its  twining  branches  meet, 
Or  crown  the  hawthorn  with  its  odours  sweet." 

BLOOMFIELD. 

8  Those  connoisseurs,  the  bees,  ages  ago  discovered  this 
wealth  of  sweetness,  and  with  ready  zeal  and  tireless  industry 
rifle  the  flowers  of  their  treasure.  Thomson,  it  will  be  re- 
called, notes  how  "  the  bee  strays  diligent "  and  loads  himself 
"  with  the  extracted  balm  of  fragrant  woodbine." 


192  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

ing  stems  as  that  of  the  hop  or  bryony,  the  reverse 
of  that  of  the  bindweed.  One  of  our  poets,  in 
dwelling  upon  the  charm  of  the  woodbine,  describes 
how — 

"With  clasping  tendrils  it  invests  the  branch, 
Else  unadorn'd,  with  many  a  gay  festoon 
And  fragrant  chaplet ;   recompensing  well 
The  strength  it  borrows  with  the  grace  it  lends." 

The  writer  of  these  lines,  less  observant  than  was 
meet,  falls  into  the  popular  fallacy  that  a  plant  that 
climbs  necessarily  does  so  by  means  of  its  tendrils, 
but  the  greater  number  of  climbing  plants — the 
honeysuckle  amongst  them — have  no  such  aids,  nor 
feel  the  need  of  them. 

Another  climber,  an  admirable  background  plant, 
is  ivy.  It  has,  moreover,  the  valuable  property  that 
it  will  grow  well  in  situations  too  shady  for  most 
other  plants,  and  will  therefore  clothe  with  verdure 
spots  that  might  else  be  bare.  As  the  gardeners 
who  make  it  a  speciality  will  supply  us  with  over  a 
hundred  named  sorts,  varying  in  size,  and  form,  and 
colour  of  leaf, x  the  choice  may  well  become  bewilder- 
ing, and  it  is  clearly  best  to  visit  the  nurseryman's 

1  Thus  aureomaculata  has  mottled  yellow  leaves  ;  aurantia 
greyish  green  foliage  ;  marmorata  large  green  leaves  edged 
with  creamy-white  ;  luteola  has  its  foliage  green  with  a  grey 
mottling  and  a  broad  edging  of  pale  yellow.  Digitata  has  its 
leaves  cut  up  into  deep  fingers,  while  others  are  heart-shaped 
or  triangular  in  form. 


DESTRUCTIVENESS   OF  IVY  193 

ground  and  select  for  ourselves  from  what  we  see 
before  us  rather  than  to  run  our  eyes  down  long  lists 
of  names  in  his  catalogue.  Should  we  design  to 
cover  a  wall  surface  or  trellis  a  little  nailing  or  tying 
will  be  necessary  at  first,  or,  if  our  ivy  is  intended  to 
cover  the  ground,  a  little  pegging  down,  but  so  soon 
as  our  plants  are  thoroughly  rooted  they  will  need 
no  further  assistance. 

There  is  a  sentimental  objection  to  the  removal 
of  ivy  from  our  venerable  abbeys  and  castles  :  we 
are  told  that  it  forms  a  charming  veil  to  the  ruins 
beneath,  Nature's  kindly  screen  to  shield  from  our 
eyes  the  mischief  wrought  by  man  or  the  ravages 
of  time,  but  it  is  really  an  element  of  destruction, 
contributing  its  share,  and  that  a  very  active  one, 
to  the  downfall  of  the  building,  its  stems,  yearly 
increasing  in  stoutness,  forcing  the  stones  apart, 
making  opening  for  the  inlet  of  rain  and  the 
devastating  action  of  frost,  until  presently  the 
historic  pile  is  disintegrated  and  becomes  but  a 
mere  mass  of  stones.  Even  if  no  mischief  accrued 
from  the  ivy  growth  it  would  surely  be  a  better 
thing  to  preserve  to  the  eye  these  ancient  buildings, 
to  cherish  what  remains  in  them  of  architectural 
interest,  than  to  allow  them  to  become  mere  masses 
of  shapeless  greenery.1 

1  u  The  English  Parnassus  "  was  published  in  1657,  and,  as 
we  have  already  indicated,  was  intended  by  its  author,  Poole, 
to  assist  the  would-be  poet  with  a  choice  of  epithets,  so  that 

13 


194  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

The  garden-lover  can  scarcely  fail  to  be  some- 
thing of  a  bird-lover  too  (though  when  the  sparrows 
destroy  his  crocuses  he  sometimes  dissembles  his 
love),  and  he  will  rejoice  that  in  the  recesses  of  his 
ivy  are  sundry  welcome  nesting-places,  while  his 
entomological  tastes  will  be  gratified  by  the  visits 
of  the  holly  blue,  a  graceful  little  butterfly  that  finds 
in  its  larval  stage  welcome  pabulum  in  the  holly  and 
ivy,  and  therefore  selects  these  plants  on  which  to 
lay  its  eggs.  During  the  flowering  season  of  the 
ivy  many  insects,  butterflies,  night-flying  moths  and 
others  are  attracted  to  its  dull-looking  blossoms  and 
find  welcome  refreshment.  While  ivy,  from  its 
evergreen  character,  ensures  us  at  all  seasons  a 
verdant  mantling,  it  has  the  grievous  disadvantage 
of  being  a  great  harbourage  for  snails,  and  these 
are  terribly  destructive.  It  is  very  trying  when 
some  friend  has  sent  one  a  rather  choice  thing, 
and  it  is  planted  with  every  care,  to  find  next 
morning  that  the  stem  has  been  eaten  through 

when  the  divine  afflatus  failed  the  practical  Poole  might  come 
to  the  rescue  and  set  matters  jogging  on  again  by  supplying 
the  missing  word.  We  find  little  or  no  suggestion  of  the 
destructiveness  of  the  ivy,  unless  victorious  or  encroaching 
may  be  accepted,  but  if  we  desire  to  apostrophise  the  plant 
we  have  an  abundance  of  choice  left.  To  call  it  clasping, 
clinging,  twining,  embracing,  flattering,  fawning,  amorous, 
ambitious,  wriggling,  winding,  snakie,  crawling,  twirling, 
hugging,  wandering,  spreading,  clambering,  are  but  a  few 
of  the  terms  at  our  service.  Some  of  them  strike  us  as  being 
hardly  up  to  Parnassian  standard. 


XXXII. 


UPRIGHT    MEADOW    CROWFOOT    and    CHEDDAR    PINK. 


To  face  page 


THE  EVENING  PRIMROSE  195 

and  the  whole  thing  irretrievably  ruined.  On  going 
out  after  dark  with  a  lantern  we  may  see  the 
devastation  proceeding  gaily.  We  have  night 
after  night  collected  from  eighty  to  a  hundred 
snails  and  consigned  them  to  destruction,  but  the 
task  is  a  repulsive  one,  and,  after  all,  not  entirely 
efficacious,  so  that  in  self-defence  a  noble  mass  of 
ivy  many  feet  high,  many  yards  long,  has  gradually 
disappeared  from  our  wall,  much  as  we  appreciated 
its  shelter  and  beauty. 

One  great  compensation  to  these  nocturnal  visits 
is  that  we  find  our  evening  primroses  in  all  their 
splendour.  As  the  shades  of  evening  advance  these 
flowers  unfold  with  startling  rapidity  until  the  whole 
plant  is  lavishly  decked  with  their  delicate  sulphur 
yellow.1  Originally  a  North  American  plant,  it 
made  its  first  appearance  in  Europe  in  1619,  the 
seeds  being  sent  to  Padua.  The  exact  date  of  its 
arrival  in  England  is  uncertain,  but  it  must  have 
been  very  soon  after  this,  as  we  find  Parkinson, 
in  his  "  Garden  of  Pleasant  Flowers,"  published  in 
1629,  referring  to  it  as  a  well-known  plant.  He 
calls  it  the  tree  primrose  of  Virginia.  Another 
name  for  it  is  the  evening  star.  When  once 
established  it  seeds  very  freely,  and  repression 
rather  than  cultivation  becomes  presently  neces- 

1  "You,  evening  primroses,  when  day  has  fled, 

Open  your  pallid  flowers,  by  dews  and  moonlight  fed." 

BARTON. 


196  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

sary.  While  a  plant  of  great  beauty  at  night,  it 
is  somewhat  less  charming  by  day,  as  the  flowers 
of  the  previous  evening  gradually  wither  as  the 
sun  gains  strength,  but  it  is  a  plant  that  we  should 
be  very  sorry  to  lose  from  our  garden,  so  the  neces- 
sary eradication  is  as  gently  done  as  the  interests  of 
our  other  plants  will  allow. 

An  old  writer  declares  the  plant  "the  emblem  of 
inconstancy  and  therefore  seldom  worn  by  the  fair, 
excepting  by  those  gay  belles  who  love  to  coquet 
and  teaze  their  smitten  swains."  How  any  one  in 
presence  of  so  beautiful  a  flower  could  devise  an 
idea  so  vapid,  a  suggestion  so  nauseating,  passes 
understanding.  It  is  on  a  par  with  those  more 
modern  Languages  of  Flowers,  where  the  victim  of 
the  tender  passion  is  supposed  to  send  to  the  fair 
object  of  his  desire  a  flower  that  represents  the  state 
of  his  feelings,  ardour,  hope,  jealousy,  or  what  not, 
and  she  responds  in  like  manner.  As  we  are 
informed  that  there  are  several  such  compilations, 
and  that  they  by  no  means  agree  in  the  significance 
assigned  to  various  flowers,  those  who  employ  them 
would  appear  to  run  considerable  risk  of  being 
entirely  misunderstood. 

One  may  occasionally  find  on  rubbish-heaps  and 
waste  ground  the  thorn-apple,  with  its  graceful 
white  flowers  and  curious  prickly  fruits.  It  springs 
very  readily  from  seed,  and  earns  a  welcome  place 
in  our  garden.  Like  many  other  poisonous  plants 


THORN-APPLE  197 

it  has  a  somewhat  unpleasant  odour,  a  feature, 
however,  that  it  does  not  insist  on  forcing  upon  us 
unless  we  deliberately  bruise  and  maltreat  it.  It  was 
originally  introduced  into  England  from  the  East, 
but  since  its  introduction  by  the  herbalist  Gerard,  in 
the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  it  has  fully  taken  up 
its  abode  with  us.  The  plant  is  a  powerful  narcotic. 
The  seeds  produce  dimness  of  sight  and  giddiness, 
or  in  large  quantities  delirium,  and  several  cases  are 
on  record  of  fatal  results  to  children  and  others  who 
have  incautiously  eaten  them.  In  India  the  plant  has 
been  criminally  employed  by  assassins  and  robbers, 
while  in  Beverley's  "History  of  Virginia"  an 
interesting  account  is  given  of  a  party  of  picnic 
folk  gathering  the  leaves  as  an  ingredient  in  a  salad. 
All  who  partook  of  it  temporarily  lost  their  reason 
and  had  to  be  placed  under  restraint,  but  in  ten  or 
eleven  days  they  entirely  recovered,  not  remember- 
ing anything  that  had  passed  in  the  interval. 
Fortunately  for  themselves  they  selected  for  their 
purpose  only  the  young  and  tender  leaves  ;  had 
they  chosen  those  fully  grown,  much  more  serious 
consequences  would  undoubtedly  have  followed. 

The  seeds  are  medically  employed  in  the  form  of 
an  extract  or  tincture,  while  the  dried  leaves,  under 
the  familiar  name  of  stramonium,1  are  sometimes 
smoked  as  cigars  to  afford  relief  in  cases  of  asthma. 
Gerard  speaks  of  having  found  the  thorn-apple  of 

1  Botanically  the  thorn-apple  is  the  Datura  Siramonium. 


198  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

great  service  to  him  in  his  medical  practice.  "  The 
iuyce  of  Thorne-apples,"  he  writes,  "boiled  with 
hog's  grease  to  the  form  of  an  vnguent  or  salue 
cureth  all  inflammations  whatsoeuer,  all  manner  of 
burnings  or  scaldings,  as  well  of  fire,  water,  boyling 
leade,  gunpouder,  as  that  which  comes  by  lightning, 
and  that  in  a  very  short  time,  as  my  self  have  found 
by  my  dayly  practice  to  my  great  credit  and  profit." 
The  properties  of  the  thorn-apple  are  almost  too 
powerful  and  uncertain  for  safe  application,  at  all 
events  in  lay  hands,  though  it  has  been  employed  in 
epilepsy,  mania,  and  divers  others  of  the  ills  of 
suffering  humanity,  and  it  occupies  a  place  in  our 
modern  pharmacopoeia. 

In  South  America  also  the  Indians  use  the  plant 
in  cases  of  illness,  but  in  a  somewhat  different  way 
to  ourselves,  as  it  is  not  the  sick  person  who  there 
takes  it,  but  his  nearest  relation.  As  soon  as  this 
person  returns  to  his  senses,  a  matter  of  some  days, 
a  somewhat  anxious  time  begins,  as  he  is  supposed 
during  the  interval  to  have  discovered  the  person 
who  has  bewitched  the  invalid,  and  the  whole  family 
immediately  endeavours  to  discover  who  it  is  that 
best  answers  to  the  description  given.  The  un- 
fortunate man  who  is  pitched  upon  is  then  required 
to  promptly  remove  the  spell,  or,  failing  this,  to  pay 
the  penalty  by  his  life. 

It  may  be  objected  that  a  plant  so  potent  should 
find  no  place  in  one's  garden,  but  therein  we  think 


HENBANE  199 

the  objectors  err.  The  plant  is  a  very  quaint  and 
interesting  one,  interfering  with  no  one  who  has  the 
sense  to  let  it  alone.  Those,  needing  a  nurse  or  a 
keeper,  who  fear  they  could  not  refrain  from  eating 
its  seeds  or  shredding  up  its  leaves  for  a  salad,  will 
do  well  to  keep  clear  of  it,  but  we  others  who  can 
enjoy  its  beauty  need  not  surely  be  debarred  from 
this  enjoyment. 

A  like  objection — its  poisonous  nature — may  be 
taken  to  the  henbane,  yet  it  is  a  plant  so  marked 
in  individuality  that  we  have  always  welcomed  it 
in  our  garden.  The  double  rows  of  dull  yellow 
flowers,  veined  with  purple,  that  line  the  stem  in 
such  profusion,  and  the  great  enlargement  of  the 
calyx  after  flowering  is  over,  are  very  interesting 
points.  It  is  a  strong  narcotic.1 

Lupton,  in  his  "  Thousand  Notable  Things," 
:595>  highly  commends  "  the  roote  of  Henbane 
stampt  and  applyed  warme  to  the  payne  of  the 
Goute  of  the  feete.  It  is  sayde  that  it  helpes 
maruelouslie  because  this  herbe  belonges  to  Jupiter, 

1  u  Here  henbane,  poppy,  hemloc  here, 

Procuring  deadly  sleeping, 
Which  I  do  minister  with  fear, 
Not  fit  for  each  man's  keeping." 

The  lines  are  from  the  "  Muse's  Elysium "  of  Drayton. 
They  suggest  the  idea  that  the  person  speaking  was  that 
dangerous  person,  one  who  meddles  with  what  he  does  not 
understand  :  into  whose  hands  no  one  would  knowingly 
trust  themselves, 


200  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

which  is  onely  Lorde  of  Sagitarie,  which  governes 
the  hucklebone,  and  of  Pisces,  whiche  chalengeth 
the  feete."  The  old  author,  Thomas  Lupton, 
claims  for  this  quaint  little  black-letter  quarto 
much  of  value,  declaring  of  those  notable  things 
that  he  gathered  in,  that  "  some  are  wonderfull, 
some  strange,  some  pleasant,  divers  necessary,  a 
great  sort  profitable,  and  many  very  precious." 
This  is  a  very  considerable  claim  to  make,  but 
so  far  as  his  book  goes,  and  it  goes  of  course  no 
further  than  the  knowledge  of  his  day  would 
allow,  we  find  ourselves  able  to  admit  much  of  what 
he  claims  for  it,  for  its  contents  are  distinctly 
wonderful,  while  their  strangeness  is  undoubtedly  a 
strong  feature.  Many  of  his  recipes  are  now  super- 
seded by  others  yet  more  profitable  and  precious  ; 
we  do  not  nowadays,  for  instance,  anoint  our  temples 
with  "  the  gall  of  a  Partriche  "  to  strengthen  the 
memory. 

Two  of  Lupton's  hints,  which  he  would  no 
doubt  classify  amongst  the  matters  profitable,  again 
concern  the  henbane.  Would  we  catch  hares — and 
that  we  know  from  the  old  cookery  book  to  be  the 
first  step  towards  their  appearance  in  the  menu — we 
are  told  to  take  "the  iuyce  of  Henbane  mixt  with 
the  bloud  of  a  Hare,  and  sodde  within  the  skynne 
of  a  Hare."  This  we  proceed  to  bury,  and  then 
bide  our  time,  since  "all  the  Hares  wyll  gather 
together  which  be  within  that  tract  where  it  is 


xxxur. 


CERASTIUM    GIBRALTIACUM    and    DIANTHUS    NEGLECTUS. 
To  face  page  200. 


NOCTURNAL  TERRORS  201 

buryed."  If  one  feels  growing  unduly  hirsute  the 
henbane  again  comes  to  the  rescue,  for  "if  you  wyll 
take  the  heair  from  any  part  of  the  body  and 
woulde  have  it  to  growe  there  no  more,  stampe 
Antes  egges  with  the  iuyce  of  Henbane  and  Hum- 
locke  and  annoynt  the  place  therewith." 

In  an  Anglo-Saxon  manuscript,  preserved  in  the 
British  Museum,  and  some  five  hundred  years 
antecedent  to  Lupton,  we  find  the  prescription  for 
a  salve  against  elves  and  goblins  of  the  night, 
nocturnal  disturbers  of  our  peace,  visitors  that  we 
might  well  desire  to  circumvent.  To  this  end  we 
"  take  hop,  wormwood,  henbane,  viper's  bugloss, 
garlic,  hedgerife,  fennel.  Put  these  worts  into  a 
vessel,  set  them  under  the  altar,  sing  over  them 
nine  masses,  boil  them  in  butter  and  sheep's 
grease,  add  much  holy  salt  to  them,  strain 
through  a  cloth  and  throw  the  worts  into  running 
water.  If  an  evil  tempting  come  to  a  man,  or 
an  elf,  or  night  goblin  come,  smear  his  forehead  I 
with  this  salve  and  put  it  on  his  eyes,  and  cense 
him  with  incense,  and  sign  him  frequently  with 
the  sign  of  the  Cross." 

It  may  be  objected  that  the  henbane  plays  only 
a  very  subordinate  part  in  this  prescription  ;  but 
this  need  not  trouble  our  readers,  since,  if  they  have 
entered  into  the  spirit  of  our  herb-garden,  their 

1  Presumably  that  of  the  man,  though  possibly  that  of  the 
goblin  ! 


202  OUE  ROCK-GARDEN 

gardens  in  turn  will  supply  all  the  other  plants,  and 
they  can  proceed  at  once  to  take  the  needful  herbal 
precautions  against  nightmare,  which  is  about  all 
that  the  matter  comes  to.  Hop,  wormwood,  garlic, 
fennel,  we  have  long  cultivated  appreciatively,  while 
hedgerife  1  comes  unbidden. 

The  green  hellebore  is  not  a  very  common  plant, 
but  it  may  occasionally  be  found  in  woods  and  on 
waste  ground.  It  is  one  of  the  few  plants  that 
have  green  flowers.  These  flowers  are  ordinarily 
few  in  number  and  drooping,  while  the  glossy, 
dark  green  leaves  are  deeply  cut  into  spreading 
lobes  or  segments.  Like  the  henbane,  the  dwale, 
plantain,  and  divers  other  plants,  it  seems  to  find 
too  in  the  society  of  mankind  a  special  attraction, 
so  that  we  may  not  unfrequently  find  it  on  or  near 
ruins,  or  at  the  foot  of  old  walls.  Gerard  declares 
that  "  it  is  good  for  mad  and  furious  persons,  for 
melancholy,  dull,  and  heavy  men ;  for  those  that 
are  troubled  with  the  falling  sickness,  for  lepers,  for 
them  that  are  sicke  of  a  quartane  ague,  and  for  all 
them  that  are  troubled  with  black  choler."  Finally, 
it  is  no  less  good  to  plant  in  our  rock-garden,  its 
verdant  flowers  and  beautifully  cut  foliage  rendering 
it  a  very  attractive  feature  therein. 

The   monk's-hood   is   another   plant    that    some 

1  The  Galium  Aparine,  but  known  popularly  nowadays  as 
goosegrass,  though  it  has  many  other  names,  as  cleavers,  harif, 
catchweed,  grip-grass. 


THE  MONK'S-HOOD  203 

people  possibly  might  scout,  from  its  very  poisonous 
properties,  but  which  is  none  the  less  a  charming 
plant.  We  figure  it  in  Plate  XXI.  We  plant  it 
liberally  in  the  shaded  portions  of  our  rock-garden, 
and  the  rich  masses  of  deep  purple  blossom  rise 
amidst  the  ferns  and  form  a  very  attractive  feature. 
The  monk's-hood,  aconite,1  helmet-flower,  or  wolf's- 
bane — Aconitum  napellus — though  awarded  a  place 
in  our  British  flora,  has  only  a  few  stations  assigned 
to  it  in  our  plant  lists,  and  must  undoubtedly  be 
recognised  as  an  introduction.  It  was,  in  fact,  first 
cultivated  in  England  about  the  year  1596,  and  any 
plants  apparently  wild  can  be  but  strays  that  have 
more  or  less  thoroughly  established  themselves. 
Those  who  would  see  it  at  its  best  may  encounter 
it  freely  enough  in  the  woody  and  mountainous  dis- 
tricts of  Europe  :  we  have  seen  it  growing  grandly 
on  the  Alps,  up  to  an  altitude  of  some  six  thousand 
feet.  In  Germany  it  is  the  Eisenhut  or  Munch 
cappen,  names  equivalent  to  our  helmet-flower  or 
monk's-hood.  We  also  grow,  to  our  great  pleasure, 
the  yellow  monk's-hood — the  Aconitum  Anthora  of 
the  botanists. 

If  we  may  credit  Ovid,  the  aconite  first  sprang 

1  u  Thou  shalt  prove  a  shelter  to  thy  friends, 
A  hoop  of  gold  to  bind  thy  brothers  in  : 
That  the  united  vessel  of  their  blood 
Shall  never  leak,  though  it  do  work  as  strong 
As  Aconitum." 

SHAKESPEARE. 


204  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

into  existence  from  the  foam  of  the  infuriated 
Cerberus,  when  that  cheerless  brute  was  dragged, 
willy-nilly,  by  Hercules  from  the  lower  world.  We 
are  told  by  the  poet  how  he — 

"  Backward  hung,  and  scowling,  look'd  askew 
On  glorious  day,  with  anger  rabid  grew : 
Thrice  howls,  thrice  barks  at  once  with  his  three  heads, 
And  on  the  grass  his  foamy  poison  sheds. 
This  sprung  ;  attracting  from  the  fruitful  soil 
Dire  nourishment "     (The  (<  this  "  being  the  aconite.) 

Cases  have  from  time  to  time  occurred  of  fatal  effects 
resulting  from  the  substitution  of  the  root  of  the 
monk's-hood  for  that  of  the  horseradish,  though 
the  two  plants  when  seen  growing  are  as  utterly 
different  in  appearance  as  one  can  well  conceive. 
They  agree  in  having  large  roots  that  are  found  to 
be  white  in  their  interiors,  though  even  these  in  the 
two  plants  are  not  at  all  of  the  same  form  ;  I  and 
in  every  other  point — size,  form,  growth,  colour  of 
leaves  and  of  blossoms — they  are  utterly  diverse. 
It  is  necessary  for  crass  stupidity  to  utterly  ignore 
a  dozen  visible  points  of  difference  before  digging 
up  the  plant  at  all,  and  laying  bare  the  one  hidden 
point  of  slight  resemblance.  And  then  the  jury 
returns  a  verdict  of  "  misadventure  "  ! 

1  The  root  of  the  monk's-hood  is  two  or  three  inches  long 
and  of  a  dark  brown  ;  the  root  of  the  horseradish  is  much 
longer  and  of  a  dirty  yellowish-white.  It  is  really  scarcely 
fair  to  blame  the  aconite  when  things  go  wrong. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  dwale,  or  deadly  nightshade — The  mission  of  Atropos 
-—Chicory— The  "  Historia  Mundi "  of  Pliny— Arab 
lore — Lady's-mantle — The  tuberous  comfrey — Purple 
comfrey — The  yellow  iris — Cornflower — The  gentians — 
Edelweiss— Chalet-made  specimens — Soldanella — Grim 
the  Collier— The  value  of  scientific  nomenclature — The 
two  Claytonias — u  Botanical  Magazine  "  of  Curtis — 
Crimson  rest-harrow — The  various  bell-flowers— The 
not-to-be-improved-on  harebell  —  Our  pinks  —  Maiden 
pink— Cheddar  pink— Ruskin's  Society  of  St.  George- 
Glacier  pink — Cerastium  gibraltaicum — Fool's  parsley 
— How  distinguished  from  the  gardener's  parsley. 

THE  dwale,  or  deadly  nightshade,  is  a  plant 
of  striking  appearance,  which  is  abundantly 
worth  growing  from  its  beauty  and  interest, 
but  which  carries  swift  death  in  its  unwise  use. 
No  doubt  this  consideration  has  frequently  had 
great  weight,  and  has  led  to  the  plant  being 
destroyed  where  it  may  probably  have  at  one  time 
grown  in  considerable  abundance.1  It  is  found 

1  u  The  green  leaues  of  deadly  Nightshade  may  with  great 
aduice  be  vsed,  but  if  you  will  follow  my  counsell  deale  not 
with  the  same  in  any  case,  and  banish  it  from  your  gardens, 

205 


206  OUK  ROCK-GARDEN 

more  especially  in  the  neighbourhood  of  villages, 
and  it  also  grows  freely  sometimes  around  old 
ruins.  It  was  in  Gerard's  time  very  abundant  at 
Highgate  and  other  localities  around  London.  It 
is,  we  remember,  found  profusely,  for  example, 
around  Furness  Abbey.  In  such  cases  it  is 
probably  a  survival  from  the  monkish  herb- 
gardens  of  mediaeval  days.  The  plant  grows 
bushily  to  a  height  of  some  four  feet,  and  when 
thickly  covered  with  its  large  black  berries  is 
a  very  noticeable  and  conspicuous  plant. 

Botanically  the  dwale  is  the  Atropa  Belladonna. 
The  generic  name  is  derived  from  Atropos,  the 
Fate  whose  mission  it  was,  according  to  classic 
mythology,  to  sever  the  thread  of  life — a  sufficiently 
marked  reference  to  the  deadly  properties  of  the 
plant.  The  specific  name  signifies  beautiful  woman, 
and  alludes  to  the  mediaeval  use  of  the  plant  in  the 
preparation  of  a  cosmetic,  while  the  old  English 
word  " dwale"  signifies  trance  or  torpor.  Another 
old  name  for  the  plant  is  the  great  morel,  from 
the  Italian  morello,  the  diminutive  form  of  Moro, 
a  Moor,  in  allusion  to  its  large  black  berries. 

and  the  vse  of  it  also,  being  a  plant  so  furious  and  deadly. 
Banish  therefore  these  pernitioii^  plants  out  of  your  gardens 
and  all  places  neere  to  your  houses  where  children  do  resort, 
which  do  oftentimes  long  and  lust  after  things  most  vile  and 
filthie,  and  much  more  a  berry  of  a  bright  shining  black 
colour  and  of  such  great  beautie." — GERARD. 


XXXIV, 


GOUTWEED. 


To  face  page  206 


DWALE,  ITS  USE  AND  ABUSE          207 

The  flowers  of  the  dwale  are  of  considerable 
size,  bell-shaped,  and  of  a  dull  purple.  The  plant 
is  a  strong  narcotic,  but  the  berries  are  especially 
potent  in  their  operation.  As  they  are  somewhat 
suggestive  of  cherries,  numerous  cases  of  poisoning 
are  recorded  against  them.  By  some  astounding 
negligence  a  quantity  of  these  ripe  berries  were 
sent  up  to  London  in  the  year  1846  as  an  article  of 
food,  and  several  persons  fell  victims  to  the  experi- 
ment. This  reminds  one  rather  of  the  man  who 
was  seen  gathering  an  assortment  of  poisonous 
fungi  under  the  impression  that  they  were  mush- 
rooms, or  at  all  events  their  equivalents,  for  com- 
mercial purposes.  On  being  warned  that  he  would 
certainly  kill  himself  if  he  ate  any  of  them,  he 
thanked  his  kindly  informant,  but  said  that  he  was 
not  gathering  them  for  himself  at  all,  but  sold  them 
up  at  the  hotel ! 

In  medical  practice  the  dwale  is  frequently 
employed  to  alleviate  pain,  but  its  greatest  value 
arises  from  its  curious  property  of  causing  a  great 
dilation  of  the  pupil  of  the  eye  when  a  little  of  the 
extract  is  painted  on  the  eyelid — a  property  that  is 
often  of  much  service  to  the  oculist  in  dealing  with 
various  diseases  of  the  eye.  Belladonna  liniment 
often  proves  most  efficacious  in  the  relief  of  pains 
in  the  muscles,  and  a  plaster  of  belladonna  is  often 
used  to  relieve  the  twinges  of  lumbago.  The  tinc- 
ture too  is  employed  to  advantage  in  easing  the 


208  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

oppressive  breathing  of  the  unfortunate  who  are 
victims  to  asthma.  We  need  scarcely  add  that  all 
such  remedies  must  be  used  under  medical  super- 
vision. Our  present  duty  is  to  commend  to  our 
readers  a  very  interesting  addition  to  their  rock- 
garden,  but  we  take  no  responsibility  for  little 
nephews  or  grandchildren.  The  time,  we  trust, 
will  some  day  come  when  the  spread  of  a  know- 
ledge of  natural  history  will  enable  even  the 
cottager's  child  to  recognise  the  difference  between 
a  cherry-tree  and  a  bush  of  belladonna,  and  to  so 
far  act  upon  its  knowledge  as  to  render  an  appeal  to 
the  burial  club  uncalled  for. 

The  chicory,  or  succory,  to  give  it  its  alternative 
though  less-known  name,  is  ordinarily  a  plant  of  the 
chalk  districts  and  gravelly  soils,  but,  if  we  can 
persuade  it  to  grow,  it  should  certainly  find  a  place 
in  our  rock-garden,  its  long  lines  of  pale  lilac-blue 
composite  flowers  being  very  charming,  while  its 
bold,  upright  growth  gives  it  distinction  amongst  its 
fellows.  There  is,  besides,  a  distinctly  practical 
value  in  its  cultivation,  if  there  be  any  truth  in  the 
old  idea  that  "  the  body  anoynted  with  the  iuyce  of 
Chicory  is  very  available  to  obtain  the  fauour  of 
great  persons."  l  In  Tusser's  "  Fiue  Hundred 
Pointes  of  Good  Husbandrie  "  we  note  that  suckerie 
is  included  amongst  the  desirable  "seedes  and 
herbes  for  the  kitchen,"  together  with  "  burrage, 
1  Buttes,  "  Dyets  Dry  Dinner/'  1599. 


THE   CHICOEY  209 

oyneons,  endive,  malows,  perceley,"  and  many  other 
herbs,  some  of  which  we  still  retain  in  use,  though 
others  have  long  since  been  superseded.  The 
suckerie  is  included  in  this  list  from  its  value  in 
"sallets,"  and  elsewhere  in  his  book  it  is  one  of  the 
plants  included  in  "good  huswifelie  physicke,"  for — 

f3? "  Good  huswiues  prouides,  ere  an  sickness  doo  come, 
Of  sundrie  good  things  in  hir  house  to  have  some/' 

The  chicory  is  a  perennial.  The  leaves  are  still 
often  used  in  salads,  and  especially  abroad  ;  they 
are  rather  bitter  to  the  taste.  In  France  the  popular 
Barbe  de  Capuchin  is  produced  by  digging  up  the 
chicory  and  then  placing  the  roots  in  sand  in  a  dark 
cellar,  when  they  throw  out  numerous  leaves  that 
become  blanched  and  are  then  very  acceptable. 
It  has  also  been  commended  as  a  fodder  plant, 
yielding  on  light  soils  a  large  amount  of  nutritious 
food;  but  this  service  will  scarcely  appeal  to  us, 
since  one  of  the  last  uses  we  should  dream  of 
turning  our  hobby  rock-garden  into  would  be  a 
grazing  ground  for  cattle  or  sheep. 

To  most  of  our  readers  the  association  of  chicory 
with  coffee  will  be  the  first  thought  that  suggests 
itself.  The  long  tap-roots  are  roasted  in  a  kiln  and 
ground  up.  It  is  whispered  that  chicory,  itself  an 
adulterant,  is  in  turn  mixed  sometimes  with  sawdust, 
dried  horse-liver,  and  other  delectable  additions,  so 

14 


210  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

that  on  the  whole,  though  its  use  is  now  legalised,  if 
confession  be  made  of  its  introduction,  coffee  pure 
and  simple  would  appear  to  be  the  preferable 
beverage.  In  Germany  and  France  the  roasted 
roots  are  sometimes  used  by  themselves  in  substitu- 
tion for  coffee.  Its  use  was  well  known  by  the 
ancients,  Horace,  Juvenal,  Virgil,  Pliny,  and  other 
writers  referring  to  it. 

At  the  bare  mention  of  some  few  subjects  certain 
quotations  may  be  at  once  looked  for.  No  writer, 
we  suppose,  on  physical  culture,  no  kindly  chairman 
presenting  the  gymnasium  prizes  at  any  institution, 
could  long  resist  the  temptation  to  refer  to  the  mens 
sana  in  corpore  sano.  In  like  manner  no  reference 
to  plant-names  without  early  reference  to  the 
well-worn  deprecatory  quotation,  "  What's  in  a 
name  ?  A  rose  by  any  other  name  would  smell  as 
sweet "  would  appear  possible.  Words  are  too 
commonly  regarded  and  employed  as  but  arbitrary 
symbols  that  by  some  chance  have  become  associated 
with  certain  things  ;  yet,  like  the  coinage  we  use  in 
our  daily  transactions,  each  is  stamped  with  a  mean- 
ing and  a  history.  In  many  cases  the  lapse  of  time 
may  have  made  the  significance  obscure  or  beyond 
recovery,  but  we  may  safely  assume  that  no  matter 
how  meaningless  these  names  may  appear  to  us, 
they  will  only  be  so  because  we  have  lost  the  key  to 
their  significance. 

Before  the  Christian  era  Hippocrates  Theophras- 


THE  WISDOM  OF  THE  EAST  211 

tus,  and  Dioscorides  had  already  published  treatises 
on  plants,  and  soon  afterwards  the  great  "  Historia 
Mundi "  of  Pliny  was  written.  We  still  use  many 
of  the  names  these  ancient  writers  gave,  though  in 
many  cases  their  descriptions  of  the  plants  cannot 
be  followed,  and  the  old  names  have  at  times  been 
allotted  on  a  very  shallow  foundation  of  probability. 
When,  later  on,  the  Western  Empire  fell  beneath 
the  incursions  of  barbarous  invaders,  the  Arabic- 
speaking  countries  of  India,  Persia,  Arabia,  Egypt, 
and  Morocco,  were  for  centuries  the  home  of  culture 
and  learning;  poetry,  mathematics,  geometry,  art, 
medicine,  astronomy,  chemistry,  and  botany,  all 
being  wonderfully  developed.1  Our  English  word 
jasmine  is  but  a  corruption  from  the  Arabic  name  of 
the  plant  ysmyn.  The  saffron  crocus  derives  its 
name  from  the  Arabic  zahafran ;  the  alchemilla,  or 
lady's-mantle,  is  so  called  from  the  Arabic  alkemel- 
yeh,  while  our  beautiful  blue  chicory  flower  bears 
in  its  name  an  almost  absolute  identity  with  its  Arab 

1  To  this  day  many  of  the  fixed  stars  are  still  marked  on  our 
celestial  globes  by  their  Arab  names.  Thus  the  seven  most 
conspicuous  stars  in  the  constellation  of  the  Great  Bear  are 
Dubhe  and  Merak,  the  pointers,  and  Megrez,  Phecda,  Alioth, 
Mizar  and  Alkaid.  Elsewhere  amidst  the  starry  host  of 
heaven  we  get  Aldebaran,  Deneb,  and  many  others.  The 
mathematician  of  to-day  deals  with  algebra  ;  the  chemist  of 
to-day  deals  with  alcohol  and  the  alkalies.  Algebra  is  the 
Arab  al-jabr,  while  al-kohl  and  al-kali  are  no  less  purely 
Arabic  words, 


212  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

title,  chikouryeh.  The  Greeks  adopted  the  name 
they  found  in  use  in  Egypt,  and  the  Romans 
followed  suit ;  we  find  Horace,  for  instance,  writing 
of  the  cichorea.1 

This  lady's-mantle  that  we  have  incidentally 
referred  to — the  Alchemilla  vulgaris  of  the  botanist 
—is  a  very  attractive  little  plant.  It  is  by  no  means 
showy.  It  will  not,  poppy-like,  compel  us  to  see  it 
whether  we  will  or  no  :  it,  in  fact,  needs  looking  for. 
The  flowers  are  in  clusters,  small  though,  and  of  a 
yellowish-green,  but  the  foliage  is  very  richly  cut, 
and  we  gladly,  year  after  year,  give  it  a  welcome  in 
our  rock-garden.  Its  generic  name  is  bestowed 
upon  it  from  its  association  with  alchemy,  it  being 
held  in  bygone  days  of  potent  influence,  the  pos- 
sessor of  great  and  mystical  virtues. 

The  reference  to  possible  fodder  plants  reminds 
us  of  our  noble  clumps  of  comfrey.  The  various 
species  of  Symphytum  are  great  lovers  of  moisture, 
and  the  fact  must  be  by  no  means  overlooked  if  we 
would  grow  them  successfully.  The  common  com- 
frey— the  5.  officinale — is  abundant  in  most  country 
districts,  growing  luxuriantly  by  the  sides  of  streams, 
and  attaining  to  a  height  of  some  three  or  four  feet. 

1  A  striking  similarity  is  seen  in  the  names  by  which  it  is 
now  known  throughout  Europe,  it  being  in  France  chicoree, 
in  Italy  the  cicorea,  in  Portugal  chicoria,  in  Spain  achicoria, 
in  Germany  the  chicorie,  in  Denmark  the  cicorie,  while  the 
Swede  calls  it  cikorie,  the  Dutchman  knows  it  as  cichorei, 
while  even  the  distant  Russ  recognises  it  as  the  tsikorei, 


XXXV. 


ROSE-ROOT    and    FOXGLOVE. 


To  face  page  212. 


OUR  COMFREYS  213 

The  leaves  are  very  large  and,  when  young,  form  a 
good  culinary  vegetable,  while  the  flowers  are  of  a 
pale  dull  yellow  ordinarily,  but  with  a  strong  in- 
clination to  vary  to  purple.  The  tuberous  comfrey 
—S.  tuberosum — has  its  flowers  somewhat  brighter 
in  their  yellow  ;  the  plant,  as  a  whole,  is  very  much 
smaller.  It  is  rare  in  England,  but  frequent  in 
Scotland  ;  our  plants  were  sent  to  us  from  Leicester- 
shire by  a  brother-botanist.  It  is  the  larger  of  the 
two  plants  that  we  figure  on  Plate  XXII.  We  find 
by  experience  that  the  soil  around  it  must  be  kept 
very  damp.  When  this  precaution  is  neglected  the 
whole  plant  is  quickly  prostrate,  but,  fortunately, 
quickly  revives  when  its  need  is  supplied.  The 
second  plant  on  the  Plate  is  the  purple  comfrey — 
S.  peregrinum — a  very  handsome  plant,  and  it  is 
this  and  the  common  species  that  have  been  utilised 
as  fodder  plants.  It  is  a  point  in  their  favour  that 
they  will  grow  luxuriantly  on  water-logged  land 
that  is  good  for  little  else.  The  only  objection 
that  we  personally  have  is  that  they  really  grow 
too  luxuriantly,  taking  up  overmuch  room.  Our 
plants  of  purple  comfrey  are  over  four  feet  high  and 
some  six  feet  round. 

The  common  comfrey  is  somewhat  astringent, 
and  has  for  centuries  unnumbered  been  held  in 
high  esteem  as  a  vulnerary  plant.  Its  generic 
name  is  from  a  Greek  word  that  signifies  to  unite, 
and  its  popular  names,  comfrey,  consound,  knit- 


214  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

back,    bone-set,    are   all  testimonies  to  the    belief 
in  its  healing  efficacy. 

The  following  rather  elaborate  preparation  "for 
strengthening  and  comforting  of  the  backe "  we 
cull  from  Markham's  book  "The  English  House- 
wife's Household  physicke,"  1638.  "Take  a  leg 
of  beefe,  a  handfull  of  Fennel  roots,  a  handful  of 
Parsley  roots,  two  roots  of  Comphry,  one  pound  of 
Raisins  of  the  Sunne,  a  pound  of  damaske  Prunes, 
and  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  dates.  Put  all  these 
together,  and  boyle  them  very  softe  with  sixe 
leaues  of  Neep,  sixe  leaues  of  Clary,  twelve  leaues 
of  bittany  of  the  wood,  and  a  little  harts  tongue. 
When  they  are  sod  very  softe  take  them  into  the 
same  broth  againe  with  a  quart  of  Sacke  and  a 
penyworth  of  large  Mace,  and  of  this  drinke  at 
your  pleasure." 

In  association  with  our  comfrey  plants  we  grow 
that  beautiful  flower  the  yellow  iris — figured  on 
Plate  XXI 1 1.,  since  this,  too,  is  a  lover  of  abundant 
moisture.  Like  those  of  the  snowdrop,  dog-rose, 
and  divers  other  plants,  the  buds  of  the  iris  will  open 
in  water.  If,  therefore,  we  gather  a  bunch  of  this 
and  bring  it  into  the  house,  no  matter  how  imma- 
ture some  of  the  buds  may  be,  they  will  in  turn 
expand  into  blossoms,  and  day  after  day  ensure  us  a 
supply  of  beautiful  fresh  flowers. 

Other  popular  names  for  the  plant  are  yellow 
flag,  fleur-de-lys,  fleur-de-luce,  sword-flag,  and 


THE  FLEUE-DE-LYS  215 

water  segg.  It  is  the  flower  of  Louis,  since  the 
seventh  French  king  of  that  name  introduced  the 
device  known  as  the  fleur-de-lys  into  the  arms  of 
France,  but  it  is  exceedingly  doubtful  that  this  was 
based  upon  the  present  flower.  In  France  to-day 
it  is  the  iris  des  marais — the  iris  of  the  marshes — 
while  in  Germany  it  is  the  wasser  Schwertlilie — 
the  water  sword-lily.  The  north  country  name 
segg  is  from  the  Anglo-Saxon  sacg,  a  small 
sword.  The  swords,  obviously,  are  the  sharp- 
edged  and  acutely  pointed  leaves  that  rise  around 
the  yellow  flowers  that  wave  their  sepals,  flag-like, 
in  the  breeze,  while  iris  l  is  a  name  bestowed  on 
the  genus  as  a  whole,  since  one  finds  so  rich  a 
variety  of  beautiful  colours  in  the  various  species 
that  it  contains. 

The  second  plant  on  the  Plate  is  that  generally 
known  as  the  cornflower,  since  it  is  so  distinctly  a 
dweller  in  the  cornfields,  but  so,  no  less,  are  the 
brilliant  poppy,  and  the  equally  brilliant  corn- 
marigold,  the  whole  forming  a  grand  trio  of  intense 
scarlet,  pure  golden-yellow,  and  deep  blue.  A  less 
attractive  but  perhaps  more  definite  name  for  it 
is  the  corn  blue-bottle,  the  bottle  being  that  globular 

1  In  classic  mythology  Iris  was  originally  the  personifica- 
tion of  the  rainbow,  as  Selene  was  of  the  moon,  and  Eos  of 
the  dawn,  but  she  later  on  became  the  messenger  of  the  gods 
to  man,  the  rainbow  being,  as  it  were,  the  bridge  of  com- 
munication between  the  upper  and  the  intermediate  worlds. 


216  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

mass  that  our  illustration  shows  us  as  a  base 
from  whence  the  azure  florets  spring.  It  is  a 
plant  so  attractive  that  it  has  been  transferred 
by  the  florist  to  his  flower-beds,  by  the  cottager  to 
his  cottage  plot,  and  under  the  influence  of  cultiva- 
tion becomes  susceptible  to  a  certain  amount  of 
colour-change,1  though  nothing  can  exceed  the 
simple  beauty  of  the  plant  as  Nature  grows  it.  It 
seeds  itself  freely,  and  is  a  particularly  easy  plant 
to  establish,  its  masses  of  flowers  brightening  up 
our  rock-garden  with  a  rich  blue  that  is  a  rather 
scarce  tint  in  matters  floral.  One  can  get  abundance 
of  yellow,  white,  pink,  or  crimson,  but  blue  flowers 
are  in  a  decided  minority  and  therefore  to  be  duly 
appreciated. 

To  realise  what  of  splendour  of  colour  a  blue 
flower  can  compass  at  its  grandest  we  must  turn  to 
the  gentians.  On  Plate  XXIV.  we  have  figured  two 
of  these.  The  smaller  one — the  Gentiana  verna — 
is  included  in  our  British  plant  lists,  though  it  is  to 
be  found  in  but  few  localities  within  the  narrow 
bounds  of  these  islands,  but  it  is  one  of  the  com- 
monest species  in  the  mountain  pastures  of  Central 
and  Southern  Europe.  To  see  it  in  its  beauty 
one  must  visit  the  Alpine  meadows  in  early  Summer 
and  see  great  stretches  of  ground  thickly  studded 

1  Tusser,  writing  in  1573,  commends  amongst  the  "  herbes 
for  windowes  and  pots  "  and  the  farmer's  garden,  "  Botles, 
blew,  red,  and  tawnie." 


GENTIANELLA  217 

with  its  brilliant  stars.  The  centre  of  each  flower, 
when  we  look  directly  down  upon  it,  we  see  to  be 
pure  white.  The  rather  leathery  leaves  form  dense 
rosettes  on  the  ground,  and  from  these  rise  the 
numerous  flower-stems,  rarely  more  than  two  or 
three  inches  high,  and  each  bearing  on  its  summit 
a  single  flower.  The  plant  thrives  best  on  moist 
loamy  or  peaty  soil,  and  we  must  give  it  abundance 
of  water  and  full  exposure  to  the  sunlight. 

The  companion  flower  on  our  Plate  is  the  gentia- 
nella — Gentiana  acaulis :  this  has  no  claim  whatever 
to  be  British  ;  would  that  it  had  !  To  see  this,  too, 
in  its  native  home  we  must  visit  the  Alpine  districts 
of  Europe,  though  fortunately  it  is  in  England 
most  easily  cultivated.  Here  again  the  leather- 
textured  leaves  form  a  radical  rosette.  We  may 
sometimes  find  it  without  the  green  dashes  in  the 
throat — -a  variation  known  as  the  G.  a.  Clusii.  The 
flowers,  too,  occasionally  vary  to  rose-colour  or 
white,  but  the  normal  condition  of  intense  blue  is 
all-satisfying.  Should  the  critic,  amateur  or  pro- 
fessional, suggest  that  such  a  foreigner  should  find 
no  place  within  the  limits  that  we  have  imposed 
upon  ourselves,  we  hasten  to  protest  that  all  we 
claim  is  that  our  flowers  should  have  pleasant 
associations  to  us,  things  that  we  have  ourselves 
collected,  or  that  have  been  the  gifts  of  our  friends 
of  like  mind  with  us.  We  have  before  us  a  florist's 
list  of  over  thirty  gentians,  and  we  see  in  it  that 


218  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

G.  acaulis  may  be  purchased  at  from  sixpence  to  a 
shilling,  and  many  of  the  others  for  sums  almost  or 
quite  as  moderate,  but  then  it  will  be  seen  that  for  this 
modest  sum  we  should  buy  the  mere  plant.  Charm- 
ing, undoubtedly,  but  carrying  with  it  no  special 
associations  of  glorious  rambles  or  break-neck 
scrambles,  recalling  no  pleasant  relationship  with 
brother  enthusiasts  ;  a  mere  item  in  an  invoice.1 
Having  broken  the  ice — and  so  Alpine  a  simile 
may  surely  be  allowed  to  us  under  the  circum- 
stances— we  have  much  pleasure  in  introducing  to 
our  readers  the  edelweiss,  the  subject  of  our 
twenty-fifth  Plate.  This,  though  it  grows  freely 
enough  in  England  under  cultivation,  must  be 
sought  elsewhere.  Despite  its  grand  name — the 
noble  white  flower — it  is  quaint  rather  than  beau- 

1  A  youngster  we  once  came  across  was  laboriously,  but 
very  happily,  making  a  collection  of  the  armorial  bearings 
of  the  various  colleges  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  one  old 
friend  of  the  family  supplying  him  with  one,  and  presently 
another  with  another,  and  so  by  degrees  his  store  grew ; 
but  in  an  evil  day  some  one  found  out  that  these  arms  could 
all  be  purchased  collected  together  in  sheets,  and  well- 
meaningly  sent  him  the  whole  set.  The  series  was  at  once 
complete,  and  all  enthusiasm  in  it  died  out.  It  turned  out  to 
be  after  all  but  a  question  of  paying  some  few  pence — and 
any  one  could  do  that — and  so  the  old  zest  was  gone. 
Instead  of  being  cut  from  college  correspondence,  letters  of 
Uncle  Tom  from  Balliol,  of  Cousin  Harry  from  Trinity,  of 
the  old  schoolfellow  gone  up  to  Pembroke,  these  arms  were 
all  drilled  faultlessly,  soullessly,  into  line,  and  were  absolutely 
bare  of  association. 


XXXVI. 


MARSH     ORCHIS    AND    TULIP. 
To  face  page  218. 


GATHERING  EDELWEISS  219 

tiful.  A  sprig  of  it  in  the  hat  or  pressed  between 
the  leaves  of  the  guide-book  may  be  a  visible  sign 
of  the  owner's  daring  and  intrepidity  ;  but  this  is 
not  necessarily  so.  Our  first  introduction  to  the 
plant  was  distinctly  unromantic.  We  scaled  no 
dizzy  height,  hung  over  no  awful  abyss,  to  gather 
it,  but  simply  looked  out  of  the  window  of  a  lodg- 
ing-house at  Buxton,  where  we  had  gone  for  a 
bit  of  a  holiday,  and  down  in  the  area  we  saw  a 
fine  potful  of  edelweiss  on  the  window-sill  of  some 
washhouse  or  something — an  experience  which 
brings  one  round  to  the  point  that,  while  a  certain 
sentiment  has  grown  around  the  plant  from  its 
occurrence  in  the  most  awful  break-neck  places,  it 
is  no  less  true  that  one  may  gather  it  freely  on 
Alpine  slopes  that  involve  no  more  danger  than 
gathering  roses  in  one's  suburban  garden.1  Each 

1  u  The  edelweiss  does  not  belong  to  the  highest  zone  of 
the  Alpine  flora,  like  the  little  pink  androsace  or  the  glacier 
ranunculus.  Its  range  is  from  about  5,000  to  7,000  feet 
above  sea-level — that  is,  over  the  zone  of  Alpine  pastures — 
sporadically  distributed,  but  almost  universal.  For  instance, 
I  have  gathered  it  in  every  important  valley  in  Canton  Valais. 
It  formerly  grew — I  should  fear  it  has  been  extirpated — on 
a  rough  stony  slope  near  the  Triftbach,  within  half  an  hour 
of  Zermatt ;  its  occurrence  in  the  Saas  Thai  I  have  mentioned. 
Wherever  I  have  seen  it  in  the  valleys  to  the  West,  this  has 
been  on  slopes  of  coarse,  stony  turf,  as  Safe  as  Primrose  Hill. 
The  greatest  quantity  that  I  ever  saw,  when  it  was  almost 
abundant  as  cowslips  in  an  English  meadow,  was  on  a 
mountain  within  less  than  an  hour's  walk,  so  far  as  I 


220  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

year  the  list  of  deaths  amongst  the  Alps  includes 
some  fifteen  or  twenty  folk  who  slip  while  gather- 
ing edelweiss  and  other  flowers.  Abundant  as  it 
would  appear  to  be  in  many  localities,  the  ne- 
cessity of  protecting  this  and  other  plants  that 
grow  at  moderate  elevations  from  the  attentions 
of  the  ubiquitous  and  too  enthusiastic  tourists 
has  arisen,  and  an  association  for  the  protection 
of  Swiss  plants  has  been  set  on  foot.1  Local 
authorities,  by  direction  of  the  central  Govern- 
ment, are  taking  steps  to  protect  the  flora  from  the 
vandalism  of  the  thoughtless  tripper  and  the  greed 
of  the  professional  flower-vendor,  while  the  Diet  of 
the  Tyrol  imposes  heavy  fines  on  any  one  selling 

remember,  from  the  village  of  San  Bernadino,  on  that  pass. 
No  doubt  there  was  a  precipice  handy  on  one  side  for  any 
one  who  wished  to  commit  suicide,  but  so  there  is  on  London 
Bridge  ;  the  edelweiss,  however,  was  upon  the  other,  a 
rough,  rather  bare  slope,  where  the  grass  grew  in  tussocks  on 
the  stony  ground.  So  far  as  my  experience  goes,  that  is  its 
favourite  habitat,  and  I  must  have  seen  thousands  of  plants 
and  found  it  in  almost  every  part  of  the  Alps." — BONNEY. 
1  A  botanical  acquaintance  of  ours  writes  anent  this  : 
"  Coming  down  from  the  Faulhorn  last  month  I  passed  a 
young  lady — I  am  afraid  she  was  English — with  a  basket 
and  handkerchief  crammed  with  flowers,  among  which  I 
could  see  gentians,  forget-me-nots,  androsaces,  and  a  host 
of  other  characteristic  plants.  Now,  if  one  such  visitor 
ascended  the  Faulhorn  every  day  during  the  season  and 
brought  away  a  like  quantity,  the  botany  of  that  mountain, 
varied  and  beautiful  as  it  still  is,  would  soon  be  despoiled 
of  its  chief  treasures." 


HOME-MADE  EDELWEISS  221 

the  edelweiss,  since  in  the  Austrian  Alps  it  is 
threatened  with  extinction.  Since  the  days  of  our 
first  parents  it  has  ever  been  a  trait  in  human 
nature  to  endeavour  to  transfer  to  others  any  blame 
that  may  be  going,  and  we  are  told  that  wrong  as 
these  professional  flower-sellers  may  be,  they  are 
"seduits  par  les  guineas  de  John  Bull,  pour  les 
expedier  en  masse  a  1'adresse  de  1'un  ou  de  Fautre 
horticulteur  Anglais." 

To  supply  the  demand  a  curious  manufacture 
has  sprung  up  whereby  all  trouble  of  collecting 
or  rearing  the  edelweiss  is  spared.  The  white 
felt  tunics  of  the  Austrian  infantry  are  bought  up 
when  they  have  served  their  turn  in  the  army 
and  cut  up  into  suitable  strips.  These  are  skilfully 
compounded  into  a  very  passable  simulation  of  the 
edelweiss  and  affixed  to  any  plant  that  will  pass 
muster  and  then  all  is  pressed  and  dried  and  ready 
for  sale  to  the  unwary  tourist.  To  allay  any  uneasy 
feeling  on  the  part  of  our  readers  we  hereby 
solemnly  declare  that  our  drawing,  like  all  the 
others  in  our  book,  was  made  with  the  living  plant 
before  us.  The  edelweiss  on  Plate  XXV.  has  never 
passed  through  any  parade-ground  experiences  or 
taken  part  in  any  great  military  function. 

Another  most  interesting  Alpine  is  the  soldanella 

—5.  alpina.     It  is  in  its  mountain  home  the  first 
plant  in  the  early  year  to  pierce  through  the  snow, 

Our  sketch  was  made,  we  see,  on  February  24th- 


222  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

but  this  was  from  a  plant  nurtured  in  England. 
Our  English-grown  Alpines  are  at  a  great  dis- 
advantage as  compared  with  their  untravelled 
relatives.  In  England  we  may  have  a  fall  of 
snow  that  will  rest  possibly  a  week  or  so  on  the 
ground.  Then  a  thaw  supervenes  and  everything 
is  drenched  with  almost  icy-cold  water,  and  to  this 
succeeds  a  sharp  frost,  and  then  possibly  a  day  so 
mild  and  balmy  that  even  though  it  be  but  January 
we  have  splendid  suggestion  of  Spring,  while  in 
the  great  Alpine  solitudes,  instead  of  this  constant 
changefulness,  the  soft  mantle  of  protecting  snow 
rests  undisturbed  for  months  until  such  time  as 
it  passes  away  finally  and  the  flowers  spring  into 
active  life.  We  have  in  mid-July  in  Switzerland 
gathered  the  crocus  flowers  of  Spring,  since  only 
at  last  in  those  high  altitudes  had  come  the  melting 
of  the  snows  that  had  enwrapped  them  through 
their  lengthy  winter  rest. 

Another  charming  plant  to  grow  bears  a  most 
unpoetic  name,  being  popularly  known  as  Grim 
the  Collier.  The  colour  of  the  flowers,  a  rich 
orange-red,  is  unusual  and  in  itself  suffices  to 
attract  attention.  It  would  appear  to  be  an  easy 
plant  to  grow ;  at  all  events  with  us  it  springs  up 
in  profusion,  its  down-covered  seeds  floating  freely 
in  the  breeze  and  readily  establishing  themselves, 
while  it  also  throws  out  creeping  stems  from  the 
parent  plant.  It  is  alternatively  known  as  the 


GRIM  THE   COLLIER  223 

orange  hawkweed,  or,  botanically,  the  Hieracium 
aurantiacum .  The  plant  is  a  native  of  the  mountain 
ranges  of  Southern  Europe,  but  it  has  long  been 
cultivated  in  England  and  occasionally  escapes. 
It  thus  finds  its  way  into  the  British  flora,  though 
its  position  on  our  plant  lists  is  a  very  precarious 
one  and  somewhat  grudged.  The  hairs  upon  the 
involucre  and  stem  are,  on  examination,  seen  to 
be  black  at  their  base — hence  the  origin  of  its 
popular  name.  "  The  stalkes  and  cups  of  the 
floures,"  Gerard  notes,  "  are  all  set  thicke  with 
a  blackish  downe  or  hairinesse  as  it  were  the  dust 
of  coles ;  whence  the  women,  who  keep  it  in 
gardens  for  noueltie  sake,  have  named  it  Grim 
the  Colliar."  In  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
of  glorious  memory  a  very  popular  comedy  was 
entitled  " Grimm  the  Collier  of  Croydon,"  and  this 
grimy  hero  of  the  populace  evidently  stood  god- 
father to  our  plant. 

Parenthetically  one  may  remark  how  great  was 
the  blessing  when  the  system  of  botanical  nomen- 
clature formulated  by  Linneus  became  established, 
each  plant  then  receiving  two  names  and  no  more. 
One,  the  generic,  placed  first,  assigned  the  position 
of  the  plant  in  a  group  of  more  or  less  similar 
plants,  while  the  second,  the  specific,  individualised 
it  from  the  other  members  of  its  genus.  Previous 
to  this  the  names  given  were  most  unwieldy  in 
character,  our  present  flower,  for  instance,  being 


224  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

the  Hieracium  latifolium  peregrinum  phlomoides 
of  one  old  herbalist,  the  Hieracium  hortense  floribus 
atropurpur  ascentibus  of  another. 

We  have  in  England  a  goodly  number  of  hawk- 
weeds,  most  of  which  may  well  find  a  corner  in  our 
rock-garden,  varying  as  the  flowers  do  in  colour 
from  deep  orange  to  pale  lemon -yellow.  On 
Plate  XLVII.  we  have  an  illustration  of  one  of 
the  still  more  numerous  hawkweeds  of  Switzerland, 
the  Hieracium  intybaceum.  Its  companion  plant  is 
the  dame's  violet,  the  Hesperis  matronalis.  The 
popular  title  is  wholly  a  misnomer ;  the  flower  has 
nothing  violaceous  about  it,  but  stands  revealed  a 
most  obvious  crucifer.  It  may  be  found  in  hilly 
pastures  in  several  localities  in  Britain,  but  is 
probably  almost  always  as  an  escape  from  cultiva- 
tion. It  is  flowering  during  May,  June,  and  July, 
and  forms  in  the  rock-garden  a  rather  diffuse  mass, 
spreading  freely,  but  of  no  great  height.  The 
flowers,  often  lilac,  as  our  illustration  shows,  are 
sometimes  white,  with  more  or  less  of  the  lilac 
streaking  them  in  erratic  apple-blossom  fashion. 

The  two  Claytonias  find  a  place  in  our  regard. 
They  are  both  North  American  species.  The 
Claytonia  perfoliata,  figured  on  the  right-hand  side 
of  Plate  XXVIII.,  is  a  particularly  inconspicuous 
plant,  but  quaint  withal.  It  derives  its  generic 
name  from  one  Clayton,  an  American  botanist, 
while  its  specific  name  bears  witness  to  the  per- 


XXXVII, 


FLAX-LEAVED    GOLDILOCKS    and     PERENNIAL     FLAX. 
To  face  page  224. 


THE  CLAYTONIAS  225 

foliate  character  that  is  so  striking,  the  stems 
appearing  to  grow  through  the  leaf.  The  plant 
may  now  be  found  in  various  parts  of  the  country, 
our  own  specimens  being  derived  from  Richmond 
Park. 

The  other  Claytonia,  figured  on  Plate  XXIX., 
is  the  C.  sibirica,  and  this,  too,  is  getting  gradually 
naturalised  in  Britain,  though  only  just  finding 
recognition  in  our  text-books.  This,  therefore,  is 
distinctly  an  interesting  thing  to  possess,  and  we 
have  given  ourselves  the  felicity  of  sending  seed- 
lings of  it  to  brother  plant-lovers  in  Surrey,  Sussex, 
Essex,  Wiltshire,  Nottinghamshire,  Yorkshire, 
Somersetshire,  Staffordshire,  and  elsewhere.  It 
seeds  very  freely,  the  position  of  a  last  year's 
plant  being  this  year  indicated  by  a  dense  mass 
of  young  successors,  so  that  one  has  abundant 
means  of  doing  a  little  pleasant  distribution  amongst 
one's  friends.  As  an  American  plant  it  has,  of 
course,  long  been  known.  It  is  included  by 
Linneus  in  his  "  Species  Plantarum,"  issued  in 
1753.  It  is  referred  to  in  the  "  Hortus  Kewensis" 
of  i8n,and  maybe  found  figured  in  the  " Botanical 
Magazine  "  I  of  Curtis  in  the  year  1821.  The  plant 

1  "  Or  Flower  Garden  displayed,  in  which  the  most  orna- 
mental Foreign  Plants  cultivated  in  the  Open  Ground,  the 
Green  House  and  the  Stove,  are  accurately  represented  in 
their  natural  Colours.  A  work  intended  for  the  use  of  such 
Ladies,  Gentlemen,  and  Gardeners  as  wish  to  become  scien- 
tifically acquainted  with  the  Plants  they  cultivate," 

15 


226  OUR   ROCK-GARDEN 

seems  to  have  been  first  noticed  in  a  wild  condi- 
tion in  Britain  by  Sir  Joseph  Paxton  in  1837,  who 
found  it  in  a  large  plantation  near  Chatsworth. 
It  may  sometimes  in  plant  lists  be  met  with  as 
C.  alsinoides,  but  the  specific  name,  sibirica? 
has  the  priority  and  is  therefore  now  accepted. 
The  flowers  occasionally  vary  to  white.  Each 
plant  forms  a  large  clump  and  tells  to  the  eye  as 
a  mass  of  pink,  star-like  blossoms.  When  the 
young  seedlings  are  once  pricked  out  the  plant 
gives  no  more  trouble.  It. is  bound  to  grow. 

Harking  back  awhile  to  Plate  XXVII.,  we  find 
that  not  only  does  it  yield  us  an  illustration  of 
the  bistort — a  plant  that  we  have  already  referred 
to — but  that  this  bistort  is  flanked  on  either  side 
by  a  companion  blossom.  The  larger  of  these  is 
the  Ononis  fruticosa,  the  crimson  restharrow. 
The  common  restharrow  has  its  flowers  of  a  pale 
pink  and  is  worth  cultivation,  but  the  present 
plant  is  richer  in  tint.  Some  authorities  tell  us 
that  the  name  should  be  given  as  wrest-harrow, 
declaring  that  the  tough  branches  and  compact 
growth  of  the  plant  wrest  the  harrow  aside,  while 
the  advocates  of  the  common  form  of  the  word 

1  It  may  seem  strange  that  a  plant  so  generally  recognised 
as  North  American  should  be  ascribed  to  Siberia,  but  the 
plant  is  no  less  at  home  in  Northern  Russia.  Linneus,  who 
called  it  sibirica,  was,  we  must  remember,  a  Swede,  and  at 
least  as  likely  in  1753  to  receive  plants  from  Russia  as  from 
America, 


VARIOUS  BELL-FLOWERS  227 

assert  that  this  hindering  does  no  more  than 
cause  a  temporary  delay,  or  rest.  It  is  a  point 
scarcely  worth  contesting.  An  alternative  old 
country  name  is  stay-plough. 

No  rock-garden  can  afford  to  ignore  the  charm 
that  a  liberal  sprinkling  of  bell-flowers  imparts. 
The  species  of  campanula  available  are  very 
numerous  and  vary  in  colour  from  pure  white  to 
pale  or  dark  blue,  lilac  or  deep  purple,  but  are  ever 
graceful  and  desirable.  If  we  limit  ourselves  to 
British  species  what  can  possibly  be  more  charm- 
ing than  a  tuft  of  Campanula  rotundifolia,  the 
graceful  harebell  ?  The  clustered  bell-flower,  C. 
glomerata,  with  its  mass  of  terminal  flowers,  or 
the  creeping  bell-flower,  C.  rapunculoides,  with  its 
long  line  of  pendent  flowers,  are  equally  desirable 
denizens  of  one's  garden,  while  the  graceful  little 
ivy-leaved  campanula,  C.  hederacea,  is  especially 
charming.  The  harebell  and  the  clustered  bell- 
flower  are  at  home  on  dry  hill  pasturage  and 
roadside  banks ;  the  creeping  bell-flower  prefers 
a  damper  and  shadier  situation,  while  the  ivy- 
leaved  campanula  asks  for  yet  greater  moisture, 
and  if  we  would  grow  these  various  plants 
successfully  these  preferences  of  theirs  must  be 
carefully  considered. 

We  recall  with  a  shudder  how  our  gardener  once 
pointed  to  our  noble  tufts  of  harebells  and  remarked, 
"I've  often  wondered  nobody  has  ever  thought  of 


228  OUK  KOCK-GARDEN 

improvin'  'em  !  "  The  harebell  emphatically  stands 
in  need  of  no  such  extraneous  help.  If  one  dreamt 
some  night  that  Messrs.  Meddle  and  Muddle,  un- 
limited, the  eminent  florists,  had  brought  out  an 
improved  harebell,  the  flowers  thrice  as  large  as 
those  of  the  wildling,  erect  instead  of  drooping, 
double  and  frilled  at  the  edges,  of  all  shades  of 
colour  and  growing  compactly  on  a  two-foot 
stem,  with  what  a  sigh  of  relief  should  we  wake 
to  find  that  the  Campanula  rotundifolia  versi- 
color  grandiflora  splendens  was  but  a  bygone 
terror  of  the  night,  that  the  delightful  little 
harebell  still  remained  to  us,  fresh  as  ever  in  its 
delicate  beauty. 

The  creeping  bell-flower,  from  those  same  creep- 
ing qualities  that  the  popular  name  emphasises, 
grows  with  us  almost  too  successfully,  and  it 
becomes  necessary  to  presently  give  it  a  gentle 
hint  that  it  is  overdoing  it.  Like  most  of  its  genus, 
its  flowers  vary  sometimes  to  white.  It  is  one  of 
the  larger  specimens,  reaching  a  height  sometimes 
of  two  feet.  Many  of  the  campanulas,  and  especially 
the  Alpines,  form  more  or  less  dense,  low-lying  tufts 
from  whence  spring  in  profusion  the  masses  of  tender 
blossom. 

The  very  delicate  little  bell-flower  that  we  figure 
on  Plate  XXVII.,  though  it  grows  readily  in  English 
rock-gardens,  is  one  of  these  Alpines,  and  may  be 
found  freely  enough  on  rocks,  old  walls,  and  else- 


VAEIOU8  BELL-FLOWERS  229 

where  in  Switzerland,  alike  on  the  Alps  and  on 
the  plains.  From  the  closely  tufted  rosettes  of 
foliage  rise  the  stems,  each  bearing  three  to 
six  flowers.  It  is  the  Campanula  pusilla,  and  a 
very  near  relative  to  our  English  harebell.  It 
is  the  C.  gracilis  of  some  of  the  older  writers, 
and  no  name  could  more  accurately  describe  it. 
The  whole  plant  is  ordinarily  but  about  three 
inches  high.1 

When  we  once  stray  away  from  our  native  flora 
a  wealth  of  campanulas  is  at  our  service.  In  a 
gardener's  list  before  us  we  find  seventy-nine 
species  set  forth.  Those  who  care,  therefore,  to 
do  so  can  at  once,  by  means  of  a  small  cheque 
and  a  trowel  set  themselves  up  abundantly  in  the 
item  of  bell-flowers.  We  ourselves  name  and  illus- 
trate but  two  more  of  these,  as  it  is  our  hobby  not 
so  much  to  write  cheques  as  to  accumulate  those 
plants  that  we  have  ourselves  dug  up  or  collected 
the  seeds  of,  in  Britain  or  anywhere  else,  or  that  by 
gift  or  kindly  exchange  come  to  us,  bearing  with 
them  pleasant  memories  of  those  friends  from 
whom  they  came. 

The  Campanula  pulla  that  figures  on  Plate  XXX. 
comes  under  the  latter  condition  of  our  preceding 
paragraph,  carrying  with  it  happy  thoughts  of  the 

1  The  specific  name  pusilla  is  bestowed  on  the  plant  from 
its  small  size.  In  France  it  is  for  the  same  reason  the  petite 
campanule  or  campanule  naine. 


230  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

source  from  whence  it  was  derived,  the  kindly 
donor  from  whose  noble  rock-garden  it  came,  and 
our  never-to-be-forgotten  rambles  in  flower-decked 
Switzerland.  Not  being  a  British  plant,  we  can  but 
give  it  its  botanical  name.  The  specific  title  is  Latin 
in  its  origin  and  signifies  dark-coloured,  a  title  that 
the  deep  purple-blue  of  its  blossoms  entirely  justifies. 
When  in  full  bloom  it  tells  out  splendidly  as  a  colour- 
mass,  and  when  seen  in  large  groups  the  general 
effect  is  charming.  The  stems  always  bear  but  one 
flower,  a  terminal  bell  that  is  more  or  less  pendent. 
In  Switzerland,  or  wherever  else  on  the  Alpine 
range  we  find  it,  it  is  always  partial  to  damp  situa- 
tions, and  flowering  from  June  to  September.  Our 
own  drawing  we  see,  on  reference  to  our  diary,  was 
made  on  June  2ist,  when  the  plant  was  well  in 
blossom.  It  spreads  rather  freely  in  soft  soil, 
throwing  up  numerous  flowering  stems,  but  one 
pauses  long  before  grudging  it  any  claims  it  may 
make  on  our  hospitality.1  Our  remaining  cam- 
panula is  the  C.  Raineri,  a  very  charming  and 
decidedly  rare  Swiss  bell-flower.  Its  vigorous  up- 
standing and  broadly-open  flowers  and  their  richness 
of  colour  are  striking  features.  It  is  the  left-hand 
flower  in  the  group  on  Plate  XXXI. 

The  numerous  kinds  of  dianthus  are  no  less  ac- 

1  The  C.  rhomboidalis  is  another  very  common  Swiss 
plant ;  one  finds  it  in  profusion  on  the  mountain  slopes 
throughout  the  summer.  It  is  figured  on  Plate  XLVIII. 


XXXVIII. 


HARE'SEAR     and     PEARLY    CUDWEED. 


To  face  futifr  470 


THE  MAIDEN  PINK  231 

ceptable  to  the  rock-gardenist  than  the  campanulas, 
the  one  supplying  us  with  as  charming  tufts  of 
foliage  crowned  by  their  pink  flowers  as  the  other 
do  of  varying  tints  of  blue.  The  contrast  between 
the  grey  foliage  and  the  delicate  pink  or  rich  crimson 
of  the  blossoms  is  an  additional  charm.  The  first  of 
these  pinks  that  we  describe  and  figure  will  be  found 
occupying  the  central  position  in  our  group  on  Plate 
XXXI.  The  botanist  knows  it  as  the  Dianthus 
deltoides,  while  in  popular  parlance  it  is  the  maiden 
pink,  or  meadow  pink.  One  might  readily  build  up 
a  pretty  theory  that  its  slender  growth  and  dainty 
grace  have  been  the  obvious  reasons  of  its  associa- 
tion in  name  with  fair  maidens,  but  stern  etymolo- 
gists demur,  and  tell  us  that  the  first  popular  name 
we  quote  is  but  a  corruption  of  the  second.  We 
nowadays  rarely  use  either  the  words  maid  or  mead, 
but  our  forefathers,  from  whom  these  plant- names 
descend,  we  know  freely  used  both,  and  so  by  some 
hocus-pocus,  mead  and  maid  become  interchangeable, 
and  so  maid  pink  and  mead  pink,  maiden  pink  and 
meadow  pink  are  all  one.  This  may  be  as  correct 
as  it  is  prosaic,  but  for  ourselves  we  shall  revert 
to  the  more  poetic  theory.1  The  botanical  name, 

1  The  critical  judgment  of  commentators  is  at  times  at 
fault,  while  their  explanations,  though  learned  and  ingenious, 
fail  on  occasions  to  explain.  As  an  illustration  we  may  quote 
the  example  of  the  critic  who,  on  reading  "  As  You  Like  It," 
saw  at  once  that  Shakespeare  had  got  his  ideas  a  little  mixed 
when  he  wrote — 


232  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

dianthus,  implies  no  less  than  that  the  pinks  were 
from  their  beauty  specially  dedicated  to  great  Jove 
himself,  and  were  the  prime  floral  favourites  of 
Olympus,  the  special  adornment  of  the  rock-gardens 
of  the  Elysian  Fields.  Charming  as  these  flowers 
are,  one  feels  that  it  is  really  setting  too  high  a  value 
on  them  when  one  recalls  the  graceful  lily,  the 
fragrant  rose,  and  many  another  floral  beauty. 
It  is  not  quite  a  case  of  the  pink  being  supreme 
beyond  compare.  The  name  was  bestowed  by 
Linneus,  and  when  we  consider  the  hundreds  of 
plants  to  which  he  stood  godfather  it  would  be 
hypercritical  to  require  that  all  their  names  should 
be  above  criticism.  Some  folk  have  even  gone 
so  far  as  to  declare  that  a  meaningless  name  is 
even  better  than  one  carrying  some  sort  of  more 

"And  this  our  life,  exempt  from  public  haunt, 
Finds  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  everything." 

It  was  evident  that  it  was  absurd  to  look  for  books  in  a 
brook  ;  in  such  a  position  the  driest  volume  would  succumb 
and  fall  to  pieces  ;  while  no  one  could  get  sermons  into  stones 
or  out  of  them.  After  pondering  the  matter  light  dawned, 
and  the  thoughtful  critic  cleared  all  up  by  the  new  reading — 

u  And  this  our  life,  exempt  from  public  haunt, 
Finds  stones  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  books,  and  good  in  everything." 

In  spite  of  this  happy  blend  of  erudition  and  inspiration 
men  have  been  found  so  conservative  as  still  to  prefer  the 
older  reading ! 


THE  CHEDDAR  PINK  233 

or  less  cogent  significance.  All  that  is  wanted,  they 
declare,  is  a  distinctive  title,  and  so  then  Trianthus 
or  Antrithus  would  be  equally  acceptable. 

The  maiden  pink  is  a  perennial ;  when  we  have 
once  started  it,  if  we  have  reasonably  good  fortune, 
we  shall  find  it  springing  up  year  after  year.  The 
leaves  form  a  tuft  from  which  the  flowering  stems 
ascend.  Unlike  most  pinks  the  flowers  are  scent- 
less, occurring  either  singly  or  in  pairs.  It  is  a 
plant  of  the  dry  banks  throughout  much  of  Europe 
and  Western  Asia,  and  is  generally  distributed  over 
Britain,  though  in  many  localities  it  is  unknown. 
It  occasionally  varies  to  Ahite  flowers. 

The  Dianthus  cczsius,  or  Cheddar  pink,  figured 
by  us  on  Plate  XXXII.,  has  noble  flowers  of  a  rosy- 
red  tint,  and  of  fragrant  odour.  The  lower  leaves 
are  thickly  crowded  together,  glaucous  in  tint,  and 
only  an  inch  or  so  in  length,  while  the  flower-stems 
may  be  anything  from  five  inches  to  a  foot,  the 
latter,  however,  being  an  unusual  length.  The 
stems  often  bear  but  a  single  flower,  but  at  times,  as 
in  our  example,  throw  out  laterals.  The  plant  is 
found,  and  that  but  very  locally,  on  limestone  rocks 
and  old  stone  walls,  in  South,  West,  and  Central 
Europe,  while  in  England  we  have,  in  its  truly  wild 
state,  but  one  station  for  it — the  magnificent  mass  of 
limestone  of  the  Cheddar  cliffs  in  Somersetshire. 
Names  implying  geographical  distribution,  as  a  rule, 
are  not  very  happy.  Few  plants  or  insects,  such  as 


234  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

the  Camberwell  beauty  or  the  Bath  white  of  the 
entomologist,  are  so  very  local  as  to  bear  assigning 
to  a  special  district.  In  many  cases  the  earlier 
botanists  or  entomologists  bestowed  the  name  from 
the  place  where  the  species  first  appeared,  but  the 
lapse  of  time  soon  renders  such  a  limitation  of  area 
in  most  cases  ludicrously  inappropriate,  though  the 
name  often  gains  a  certain  historic  interest  thereby. 
The  case  of  the  Cheddar  pink  does  not  come  within 
this  criticism  :  the  name  is  absolutely  beyond  cavil. 

On  visiting  Cheddar  one  is  waylaid  by  importu- 
nate folk  desiring  to  sell  to  the  visitor  roots  of  this 
pink,  and  the  thought  will  no  doubt  cross  the 
reader's  mind  that  such  a  proceeding  must  neces- 
sarily end  in  the  total  destruction  of  the  plant ;  but 
a  contemplation  of  these  grand  cliffs,  in  many  parts 
entirely  inaccessible,  brings  comfort  on  that  score. 
The  extensive  sale  is  nevertheless  greatly  to  be 
regretted,  and  we  may  say,  in  self-defence,  that  our 
plants  did  not  come  from  Cheddar  at  all.  Such 
plants,  bought  often  by  cheap-trippers  and  one-day 
excursionists,  as  something  to  take  from  Cheddar, 
in  the  same  way  that,  for  some  occult  reason,  they 
drag  home  mugs  from  Margate,  are  almost  certainly 
doomed  to  perish. I 

1  There  is  evidently  room  there,  and  by  no  means  there 
alone,  for  a  local  branch  of  Raskin's  Society  of  St.  George, 
one  of  the  rules  of  this  Guild  being  "  I  will  not  hurt  or  kill 
any  living  creature  needlessly,  nor  destroy  any  beautiful 


THE  CHEDDAR  PINK  235 

Nature-lovers,  fearful  of  the  gradual  extinction  of 
the  Cheddar  pink,  in  view  of  this  relentless  uproot- 
ing, and  the  extensive  blasting  and  quarrying  that 
are  gradually  reducing  the  available  area,  have  suc- 
cessfully intoduced  it  into  other  localities.  Even 
away  up  in  far  Stirlingshire,  some  five  hundred  feet 
above  the  sea,  we  know  of  a  locality  where  seeds 
sent  from  Cheddar  have  germinated  in  the  crannies 
of  an  old  stone  wall,  and  have  taken  most  kindly  to 
their  new  home.  At  Castle  Gary,  Shepton  Mallet, 
Bath,  and  elsewhere  the  same  thing  has  happened, 
so  that  even  if  the  Cheddar  pink  should  presently 
disappear  from  its  original  locality,  we  may  fairly 
hope  that  it  will  not  thereby  be  wholly  lost  to 
Britain. 

The  Cheddar  pink  was,  we  find,  referred  to  by 
Ray  in  the  year  1680,  and  from  time  to  time  after- 
wards by  other  writers.  Hudson,  in  his  "  Flora 
Anglica,"  published  in  1762,  calls  it  the  Dianthus 
glaucus — a  name  suggested  by  the  grey-green  of  its 
foliage,  and  its  popular  names  in  France,  Belgium, 
Switzerland,  and  Germany  are  all  based  upon 
observation  of  this  glaucous  tint. 

The  right-hand  flower  on  the  following  Plate, 
XXXIII.,  is  the  Dianthus  neglectus  of  science.  Its 
popular  name,  the  glacier  pink,  sufficiently  indicates 
to  us  that  we  have  again  a  souvenir  of  glorious  days 

thing,  but  will  strive  to  save  and  comfort  all  gentle  life,  and 
guard  and  perfect  all  natural  beauty  upon  earth." 


236  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

amongst  the  mountains,  and  that  our  plant  has  no 
claim  to  a  place  in  our  English  flora.  Indications 
of  glacial  action  may  be  found  clearly  enough  with 
crossing  the  Channel,  but  our  glaciers  have 
departed,  and  with  them,  very  possibly,  D.  neg- 
lectus.  This  pink  has  the  usual  dianthus  cha- 
racter, the  leaves,  glaucous  in  tint,  in  tufts  close  to 
the  ground — looking  like  short,  wiry  grass — and 
rising  from  this  compact  mass  the  slender,  flower- 
bearing  stems. 

The  petals  of  the  glacier  pink  have  a  firmer 
character  than  we  ordinarily  find  in  this  genus, 
and,  while  a  brilliant  rose-colour  above,  are  of  a 
creamy-white  beneath.  When  seen  in  masses,  the 
effect  of  the  rosy,  star-like  blossoms  rising  in  profu- 
sion from  the  midst  of  the  grey-green  leaves  is 
charming.  Its  fellow-plant  on  the  Plate  is  the 
Cerastium gibraltaicum — an  attractive  little  foreigner 
to  which  our  figure  does  but  scant  justice,  as  here, 
again,  the  real  effectiveness  of  the  plant  is  brought 
out  when  we  have  a  considerable  tuft  of  its  silver- 
grey  foliage  and  pure  white  flowers  in  the  midst  of 
the  surrounding  verdure.  It  is  rather  specially 
choice  as,  though  cerastiums  of  one  species  or 
another  are  common  enough  in  England  and  else- 
where, this  particular  species  appears  thus  far  to 
have  only  been  found  on  the  great  mass  of  Nature's 
rock-work  from  whence  it  takes  its  specific  name. 

The  fool's  parsley — the  ^Ethusa  Cynapium — will 


XXXIX. 


APPLE. 


To  face  -page.  2j6. 


FOOL'S  PARSLEY  237 

probably  spring  up  whether  we  will  or  no,  as  it  is 
a  plant  essentially  delighting  in  cultivated  ground. 
Personally  we  encourage  it,  as  it  is  very  graceful  in 
its  growth  ;  but  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  it  is 
one  of  our  poisonous  species.  Even  if  we  do  not 
hang  the  dog  with  a  bad  name,  it  is  at  least  well  to 
keep  him  under  observation.  The  fool's  parsley  is 
so  called,  with  that  simple  directness  which  charac- 
terises so  many  of  the  old  plant-names,  from  a 
belief  that  no  one  but  a  person  to  whom  the  dis- 
paraging epithet  would  fully  apply  could  be  so 
wanting  in  sense  as  to  mistake  it  for  the  true 
parsley.  The  resemblance  between  the  real  and  the 
counterfeit  is,  however,  closer  than  in  many  plants 
that  bear  names  suggesting  resemblance,  while  the 
fact  that  the  aethusa  is  particularly  prone  to  spring- 
ing up  in  cultivated  land,  possibly  in  close  proximity 
to  one's  patch  of  parsley,  makes  it  evidently  a  more 
dangerous  plant  than  one  which,  however  similar  it 
might  be  to  some  culinary  herb,  was  never  found 
except  in  woods  or  wild  moorlands. 

The  fruit  and  flowers  of  the  fool's  parsley  are 
borne  in  little  clusters,  while  the  stems  that  bear 
these  little  bunches  are  themselves  in  like  manner 
united  in  one  point,  like  the  ribs  of  an  open  and 
inverted  umbrella.  Where  the  secondary  clusters 
of  stems  are  given  off  three  sharp  and  narrow  leaf- 
like  forms  are  seen  pendent,  and  this  marked 
feature  not  only  distinguishes  at  once  the  plant 


238  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

from  the  true  parsley,  but  from  all  the  other  nume- 
rous species  in  the  large  order  of  plants,  including 
the  garden  parsley,  celery,  carrot,  fennel,  samphire, 
parsnip,  and  hemlock,1  to  which  it,  by  botanical 
affinity,  belongs.  The  foliage,  too,  of  the  fool's 
parsley  is  very  glossy  and  of  a  dull  bluish-green, 
while  that  of  the  true  parsley  is  of  a  bright,  clear 
green.  When  the  leaves  of  the  genuine  parsley  are 
rubbed  or  bruised  they  give  out  the  fragrant  odour 
with  which  we  are  all  familiar  ;  but  the  leaves  of 
the  wild  plant  emit  an  unpleasant  smell  when 
crushed,  so  that  it  seems  in  every  way  impossible 
for  a  cook  who  had  ordinary  eyesight  or  a  reason- 
ably good  nose  to  chop  up  one  plant  for  the  other. 
We  may  with  good  conscience  allow  our  aethusa 
to  remain,  for  whatever  of  arrant  carelessness  of 
selection  might  happen  in  the  kitchen  garden,  it 
is  scarcely  likely  that  the  cook  would  visit  the 
master's  pet  rockery  and  scramble  over  it  in  search 
of  culinary  herbs. 

The  name  aethusa  is  derived  from  the  Greek 
word  signifying  to  burn,  a  name  bestowed  on  our 
plant  from  its  acrid  nature,  while  the  specific  name, 
also  Greek  in  its  origin,  means  dog's  parsley,  an 
old  equivalent  of  the  modern  popular  name,  and 
implying  its  inferiority  to  the  real  thing.  Thus  in 
another  case  we  get  the  name  dog-violet,  a  title 

1  Parkinson,  in  his  "  Theatrum  Botanicum,"  calls  the 
sethusa  "  The  Foolish  Hemlocke  or  Counterfet  Parsley." 


PLANT  NAMES  239 

bestowed  on  a  species  that  somewhat  resembles  the 
sweetly  scented  violet,  but  lacks  its  fragrance.  In 
much  the  same  way  we  find  the  names  cow-parsnip, 
hog's  fennel,  horse-mint,  bestowed  on  plants  that 
somewhat  resemble  fennel,  mint,  or  parsnip  in  some 
way  or  other,  but  are  larger,  coarser,  or  less  useful 
than  the  plants  they  are  named  after. 

We  must  not,  however,  too  hastily  assume  that 
the  use  of  the  name  of  an  animal  of  necessity  im- 
plies inferiority  in  some  way ;  for  the  cat-mint,  for 
example,  is  not  so  called  from  any  invidious  com- 
parison with  the  garden  mint,  but  because  cats  were 
believed  to  be  so  fond  of  it,  while  the  name  sow- 
thistle  is  a  corruption  of  sprout-thistle,  and  points 
to  a  time  when  its  tender  shoots  were  an  article  of 
diet.     A  considerable  amount  of  doubt  has  arisen 
as  to  the  meaning  of  dog-rose  :  one  botanical  writer 
boldly  affirms  that  the  flower  is  so-called  from  its 
want  of  scent  and  beauty  ;  but  this  is  an  atrocious 
libel  on  one  of  the   most   delicately  fragrant  and 
most  graceful  of  plants.    Pliny,  centuries  ago,  called 
the  plant  the  dog-rose   in   distinct  allusion  to  the 
belief  of  his   day  in   the   efficacy  of  the  plant  in 
curing  the   bite  of  a   mad   dog.     Dagge,  the   old 
English  word  for  a  prickle,  has  been  pressed  into 
the  service,  and  we  are  invited  to  see  in  dog-rose 
evident  and  appropriate  reference  to  the  decidedly 
prickly  nature  of  the  shrub. 


CHAPTER   IX 

Hemlock — Its  medicinal  service — Mediaeval  writers  great 
plagiarists — Alexanders — Coles'  "  Art  of  Simpling  " — 
Gout-weed — Herb  Gerard — Plant-names  based  on  sup- 
posed medical  virtues — Herb  Christopher — Rose-root — 
Foxglove — Plant-names  based  on  colour — The  mullein 
— House-leek — The  flora  of  an  old  thatched  roof — Marsh 
orchis  —  Wild  tulip  —  The  musk  mallow  and  field 
mallow — Milfoil,  or  yarrow — Sneezewort — Other  plants 
of  the  genus — Tansy — Tansy  pudding — Cogan's  "  Haven 
of  Health  " — Wormwood — Honesty — The  yellow  and 
white  melilots — Cockle — The  corn  marigold — Feverfew 
— The  red  and  white  campions — Flax-leaved  goldilocks 
—Flax. 

IT  is,  perhaps,  unfortunate  that  such  interesting 
plants  as  the  dwale,  henbane,  foxglove,  thorn- 
apple,  and  the  fool's  parsley  should  be  poisonous,  as 
thereby  a  prejudice  is  aroused  against  them.  Hem- 
lock is  no  less  interesting,  and  no  less  in  jeopardy 
of  expulsion  by  most  folk  from  any  of  their  sur- 
roundings. It  is  a  fine  thing  when  well  grown,  and 
belongs  to  the  same  great  botanical  order  as  our 
last  plant.  Our  umbelliferous  plants  are  very 
numerous,  and  have  a  sufficient  general  similarity 

16  *a 


242  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

to  make  them  puzzling  to  identify ;  but,  as  the 
fool's  parsley  has  its  three  pendent  bracts  that  serve 
to  differentiate  it  from  its  fellows,  so  the  hemlock 
has,  as  its  distinction,  its  spotted  stem,  a  series  of 
numerous  irregular  blotches  of  dull  purple  hue  on 
the  general  green  ground. 

The  name  hemlock  descends  to  us  from  Anglo- 
Saxon  days,  heam  or  healm  being  in  Anglo-Saxon 
the  word  for  straw,  while  leac1  is  a  general  name 
for  a  plant ;  the  name  was  given  to  the  plant  from 
its  hollow  stems.  Gerard  and  other  old  writers 
often  spell  the  word  as  humlocke,2  but  this  is  but 
one  vagary  the  more  in  the  excessively  free  treat- 
ment that  we  find  in  almost  all  old  spelling. 

Our  forefathers  believed  in  the  remedial  value  of 
the  hemlock,  though,  considering  that  they  believed 
in  the  remedial  qualities  of  almost  everything  else 
with  an  equal  sincerity,  it  is  not  so  high  a  testi- 
monial to  the  hemlock  as  would  at  first  appear. 
"  The  leaves  bruised  and  laid  to  the  brow  are  good 
for  their  eyes  that  are  red  or  swollen ;  as  also  to 
take  a  web  growing  in  the  eye  :  this  is  a  tried 
medicine.  Take  a  small  handful  of  this  herb,  and 

1  Thus  Garlic,  Anglo-Saxon  gar  a  spear,  and  leac  a  plant,  or 
house-leek,  the  leac  that  we  so  often  find  growing  on  old 
walls  and  cottage  roofs  in  the  country. 

*  u  But  cursed  speaking  set  out  in  the  image  of  godly nes, 
what  is  it  elles  than  the  poison  of  humlock  myxed  with  wyne  ? 
So  that  the  venome  is  more  presently  strong  in  that  it  is 
myngled  with  a  most  holsome  matter.'' — UDALL. 


XL. 


SEA    BUCKTHORN. 


To  face  page  242. 


HEMLOCK  REMEDIES  243 

half  as  much  baysalt,  beaten  together  and  applied 
to  the  contrary  wrist  of  the  hand  for  twenty-four 
hours  doth  remove  it  in  twice  dressing.  The  "  it," 
of  course,  is  not  the  other  hand  ;  one  rarely  feels 
the  need  of  parting  with  that!  It  is  the  membrane's 
growth  on  the  eye  that  has  to  go.  "  If  the  root  of 
hemlock  be  roasted  under  the  embers,  wrapped  in 
double  wet  paper  until  it  be  soft  and  tender,  and 
then  applied  to  the  gout  in  the  hands  or  fingers,  it 
will  quickly  help  this  evil."  A  quaint  remedy  "  for 
the  Head  Ach  "  is  "to  take  green  Hemloc  that  is 
tender  and  put  it  in  your  Socks  so  that  it  may  lie 
thinly  between  them  and  the  Soles  of  your  Feet." 
This  is  to  be  changed  every  twenty-four  hours, 
though  we  should  ourselves  hope  that  the  aching 
head  would  be  a  thing  of  the  past  long  before  even 
one  of  these  somewhat  lengthy  periods  had  passed. 
In  the  Middle  Ages  an  anaesthetic,  centuries  before 
the  days  of  chloroform,  was  highly  commended. 
A  mixture  was  compounded  of  black  nightshade, 
henbane,  hemlock,  and  some  other  ingredients, 
by  no  means  forgetting  the  gall  of  a  swine  and  a 
goodly  quantity  of  vinegar.  Then,  the  surgeon 
being  ready,  "  let  him  that  shall  be  cut  sit  near  a 
good  fire  and  make  him  drink  thereof  till  he  will 
fall  on  sleep,  and  then  men  may  safely  cut  him,  and 
when  he  hath  been  served  fully,  and  thou  wilt  have 
him  to  awake,  take  vinegar  and  salts  and  wash  well 
his  temples  and  cheeks,  and  he  shall  soon  awake." 


244  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

One  can  only  hope  that  this  restoration  to  con- 
sciousness was  as  much  a  matter  of  course  as  the 
old  writer  suggests  :  the  whole  thing  seems  to  us 
perilously  near  to  manslaughter.  Even  so  early  as 
the  days  of  Pliny  (and  they  were  very  early  days 
indeed — one  must  go  back  over  nineteen  hundred 
years  to  arrive  at  them)  divers  herbs  were  com- 
mended "  to  be  given  before  incisions  or  punctures 
are  made  in  the  body  in  order  to  ensure  in- 
sensibility to  the  patient."  Drayton,  in  his  "  Quest 
of  Cynthia,"  calls  the  hemlock  "  the  poisonedst 
weed  1  that  grows." 

The  mediaeval  herbalists  all  quote  from  Diosco- 
rides  the  tale  that  "  if  asses  do  eate  much  of 
Hemlockes  they  wyll  be  cast  thereby  into  a  deepe 
and  dead  sleepe,  that  they  wyll  seeme  to  be  dead. 
Which  hath  deceyued  the  countrey  men  being 
ignorant  thereof :  for  as  they  have  bene  fleying  of 
theyr  skynes  (thynking  that  they  were  dead)  the 
sely  asses  have  sturred  and  wakened  out  of  their 
sleepe  :  to  the  great  terror  of  them  that  did  flea 

1  Coles,  in  his  quaint  u  Art  of  Simpling,"  issued  in  the  year 
1656,  writes :  u  I  find  no  word  for  a  weed,  either  in  Latin  or 
Greek,  yet  because  it  is  so  common  a  word  in  England,  I 
make  that  a  kinde,  and  thereof  are  Chickweed,  Horehound, 
Archangell,  Cleavers,  Groundsell,  Nettles,  Hemlock,  Bind- 
weed, Poppy,  &c.  This  is  a  division  (I  confesse)  I  never 
met  with  in  any  Author,  and  some  faults  haply  may  be 
found  in  it,  but  herein  you  may  perceive  that  I  endeavour 
(as  much  as  I  can)  to  condescend  to  capacities  of  the  vulgar, 
whose  good  I  heartily  wish." 


ASS  SKINNING  245 

them  or  cut  of  their  skyns,  and  to  the  great  laugh- 
ing of  them  that  dyd  behold  them."  There  is  a 
tradition  that  no  one  has  ever  seen  a  dead  donkey, 
and  these  unknown  yokels  of  some  unidentified 
country  were  entirely  unsuccessful  in  their  quest. 
That  the  asses  should  be  held  "sely"  for  objecting 
to  be  skinned  alive  seems  a  rather  severe  judg- 
ment upon  them.  All  these  old  writers  crib  from 
each  other  and  from  the  ancients.  The  tale  as  we 
give  it  is  from  Lupton,  but  even  so  sane  a  writer  as 
Parkinson  tells  how  that  "  asses  by  chance  eating  of 
the  herbe  did  fall  into  so  deepe  a  sleepe  that  they 
seemed  dead,  which  when  some  came  to  flay  them 
they  flang  from  them  in  the  doing  it,  to  their  amase- 
ment  and  merriment."  It  is  really,  therefore, 
scarcely  worth  while  in  many  cases  to  quote  one's 
authority,  as  the  same  recipes  or  marvels  are  found 
in  a  dozen  writers,  each  man,  unless  quoting  from 
Pliny  or  other  venerable  writer,  telling  the  matter 
in  his  own  words,  to  salve  his  conscience,  and  to 
escape,  if  it  may  be,  a  charge  of  plagiarism.  It  is 
needless  to  quote  as  from  A  or  from  Z  when  all  the 
intermediate  letters  of  the  alphabet  no  less  reproduce 
the  same  material  dished  up  in  a  slightly  different 
way. 

The  Alexanders — the  Smyrnium  Olusatrum  of  the 
botanist,  and  a  near  relative  of  the  hemlock — is  a 
noble  growth  that  we  may  include  in  our  floral 
belongings.  It  is  of  sturdy  habit,  attaining  to  a 


246  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

height  of  some  four  feet,  with  broad  leaves  and 
several  noble  heads  of  yellowish-green  flowers.  It 
is  a  plant  of  the  waste  grounds,  and  is  often,  no 
doubt,  an  escape  or  survival,  as  in  mediaeval  days  it 
was  largely  cultivated,  and  hence  one  finds  it  still 
amongst  the  ruins  of  old  monastic  buildings  and 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  houses.  It  seems,  too,  to 
have  a  partiality  for  the  neighbourhood  of  the  sea. 
From  its  black  seeds  and  esculent  value  it  was 
known  to  the  old  herbalists  as  black  pot-herb,  and  its 
specific  name  olusatrum  is  identical  in  significance. 
The  English  name  is  a  somewhat  curious  one,  as  its 
terminal  letter  gives  it  what  one  may  call  a  plural 
look.  One  could  accept  Alexander  I  as  a  much  more 
likely-looking  plant-name.  We  do  not,  for  example, 
speak  of  a  foxgloves  or  a  thistles.  Some  tell  us 
that  the  name  is  a  corruption  of  Olus  astrum,  the 
monkish  name,  while  others  hitch  on  a  theory  that 
it  is  so  called  because  the  plant  was  supposed  to 
have  originally  come,  to  suit  this  explanation,  from 
Alexandria,  while  yet  others  would  instruct  us  that 
it  owes  its  name  to  the  great  medicinal  benefit 
derived  from  the  use  of  the  plant  by  Alexander  the 
Great.  The  plant  is  thus  Alexander's  herb.  In 
other  words  nobody  knows,  and  so  we  may  all  start 
any  so-called  explanation  we  please. 

Like  many  plants  utilised  by  our  forefathers  it  has 

1  Cotgrave  we  note  calls  the  plant  u  Alexandre,  the  hearb 
great  parsley/'  though  he  also  gives  the  name  as  Alisaunders 


ALEXANDERS  247 

passed  out  of  use,  other  things  more  palatable 
having  been  introduced.  The  young  shoots  were 
eaten  raw,  celery  fashion,1  or  were  cooked  as  we 
now  serve  sea-kale,  or  became  a  flavouring  ingre- 
dient in  soups  and  stews.  In  Tusser's  "  Fiue 
Hundred  Pointes  of  Good  Husbandrie"  we  find  it 
amongst  "the  herbes  and  rootes  for  sallets  and 
sauce "  that  the  good  housewife  will  be  careful  to 
rear  in  her  garden  plot,  in  company  with  "  cresies, 
lettice,  endiue,  spinage,"  and  other  useful  herbs. 
Parkinson,  writing  in  1629,  before  the  plant  had 
passed  out  of  use,  declares  that  "  our  Alexanders 
are  much  used  to  make  broth  with  the  upper  part  of 
the  roote,  which  is  the  tenderest  part,  and  the  leaves 
being  boiled  together.  Some  eate  them  either  raw 
with  some  vinegar,  or  stew  them  and  so  eat  them,  and 
this  chiefly  in  the  time  of  Lent,  to  helpe  to  digest 
the  viscous  humours  that  are  gathered  by  the  much 
use  of  fish  at  that  time."  A  further  great  recom- 
mendation of  the  plant  to  our  ancestors,  who  seem 
to  have  been  always  in  a  mortal  fear  of  meeting 
toads,  shrew  mice,  serpents,  dragons,  and  such-like 
perils  of  the  country,  is  that  "  the  seedes  if  they  be 
boyled  in  wine,  or  taken  in  wine,  are  effectuall 
against  the  bitings  of  serpents." 

The  goutweed— Plate  XXXIV.— another  umbel- 
liferous plant,  is  one  that,  graceful  as  its  verdant 

1  The  plant  was  earthed  up,  as  celery  is  blanched  for  the 
market. 


248  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

foliage  is,  we  must  be  rather  chary  of  admitting. 
When  one  gets  a  rather  dark,  damp  corner  of  one's 
rock-garden  thickly  clothed  with  its  foliage  the 
effect  is  very  charming,  but  when  the  long  and 
freely  creeping  root-stocks  begin  to  encroach  outside 
this  they  are  exceedingly  difficult  either  to  keep  in 
order  or  to  extirpate.  It  is,  in  short,  quite  possible 
to  have  too  much  of  a  good  thing.  "  The  roote 
runneth  and  creepeth  like  Quick  in  the  ground, 
some  occupying  a  great  deale  of  roome.  It  groweth 
by  hedges  and  wall-sides,  and  often  times  in  gardens 
also,  if  it  be  not  rid  and  weeded  out."  The  plant 
was  long  cultivated  for  medicinal  purposes,  and  it  is 
probably  not  truly  indigenous.  Even  to-day,  when 
its  medical  utility  is  a  thing  of  the  past,  it  is  still 
almost  exclusively  about  houses  and  gardens  that  it 
may  be  met  with.  "Goutwort  had  not  his  name 
given  as  it  seemeth  at  randome,  but  upon  good 
experience  to  helpe  the  cold  Goute  and  Sciatica,  as 
also  joynt  aches  and  other  cold  griefes."  The  root 
was  the  part  employed,  and  as  St.  Gerard  was 
invoked  by  the  gouty  in  their  distress  another  old 
name  of  the  plant  is  the  herb  Gerard.  The  leaves 
are  in  some  parts  of  the  Continent  eaten  as  a 
vegetable,  and  especially  in  the  Spring. 

Such  names  as  goutweed,  wormwood,  pilewort, 
sneezewort,  all-heal,  woundwort,  indicate  clearly  the 
reputed  virtues  of  these  various  plants,  while  fever- 
few, heartsease,  eyebright,  and  the  old  monkish 


IBERIS    SEMPERVIVENS    and    ACHILLEA    RUPESTRIS. 


To  face  page 


ANGELICA  249 

name  of  the  cowslip,  the  herb-paralysis,  also  tell 
their  story  clearly  enough.  The  eyebright  was  also 
called  the  euphrasy,  and  we  meet  with  an  interesting 
reference  to  the  old  .belief  in  the  efficacy  of  the 
plant  in  the  lines  of  Milton — 

"  Michael  from  Adam's  eyes  the  film  removed, 
Which  the  false  fruit,  that  promised  clearer  sight, 
Had  bred :  then  purged  with  euphrasy  and  rue 
The  visual  nerve,  for  he  had  much  to  see." 

The  Angelica  was  so  called  by  the  monks  in 
mediaeval  days,  their  belief  in  its  valuable  medical 
properties  being  sufficiently  powerful  to  cause  them 
to  regard  it  as  an  angelic  gift  to  suffering  mankind.1 
The  tutsan  is  a  corruption  of  toute  saine,  and  the 
herb-bennet,  or  avens,  originally  was  the  herba 
benedicta,  or  blessed  herb.  The  reseda,  or  mig- 
nonette, was  so-called  originally  by  Pliny  from  its 
supposed  soothing  qualities,  the  Latin  verb  reseda 

1  It  has  no  reputation  in  the  present  day  for  possessing 
any  healing  power,  but  in  the  Middle  Ages  belief  in  it  seems 
to  have  stood  even  the  test  of  experiment.  An  old  writer, 
for  instance,  commends  it  as  aa  singular  remedie  against 
poison,  and  against  the  plague,  and  all  infection  taken 
by  euill  and  corrup  aire  ;  if  you  do  but  take  a  peece  of  the 
root  and  holde  it  in  your  mouth  it  doth  most  certainly  driue 
away  the  pestilentiall  aire,  yea,  although  that  corrup  aire 
have  possessed  the  hart  yet  it  driueth  it  out  againe.  The 
root  is  auailable  against  witchcrafts  and  inchantments  if  a 
man  carrie  the  same  about  with  him.  It  cureth  the  bitings  of 
mad  dogs  and  all  other  venemous  beasts." 


250  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

signifying  I  calm,  and  in  like  manner  squinancy- 
wort  is  based  on  the  Greek  word  cynanche,  signi- 
fying quinsy,  this  plant  being  held  to  be  a  specific 
for  that  disease. 

The  reference  to  herb  Gerard  suggests  another 
plant  having  a  no  less  saintly  ascription  I  to  which 
we  gladly  give  welcome  in  our  garden — the  herb 
Christopher.  Its  leaves  are  very  richly  cut,  and  the 
stems,  some  one  to  two  feet  high,  bear  terminal 
racemes  of  small  yellowish-white  flowers.  These 
are  succeeded  by  little  berries  that  are  nearly  black 
in  colour.  "  It's  thought  to  be  of  a  venimous  and 
deadly  quality,"  says  Lovell  in  1665,  but  on  ventur- 
ing to  taste  the  berries  he  declares  that  "  by  taste 
they  seem  not  pernicious."  It  is  a  very  local 'plant, 
and  only  found  in  the  northern  counties  of  England, 
but  down  south  it  flourishes  happily  enough  with 
us,  within  a  shilling  return  ticket  to  the  heart  of  the 
Metropolis  and  back,  and  forms  a  very  acceptable 
member  of  our  floral  fraternity. 

The  seeds  are  undoubtedly  poisonous,  as  Lovell 
would  have  found  if  he  had  indulged  in  much  more 
than  a  taste,  and  entirely  justify  the  popular  name, 
baneberry.  How  the  baneberry  got  to  be  associated 

1  There  are  many  others,  we  need  scarcely  say,  as  the 
St.  John's  wort,  and  the  cowslip,  or  herb  Peter,  the  pendent 
flowers  of  the  latter  being  held  suggestive  of  a  bunch  of  keys. 
The  keys  of  the  great  Apostle  are,  however,  when  depicted 
in  religious  art  always  but  two  in  number. 


ROSE  ROOT  251 

with  St.  Christopher  it  is  impossible  now  to  say. 
Curiously  enough,  it  has  several  rivals  in  the  field, 
the  fleabane,  meadow-sweet,  betony,  and  one  or 
two  other  plants  being  also  dedicated  to  this  very 
popular  saint. 

The  plants  we  next  figure — those  on  Plate  XXXV. 
— are  the  rose- root  and  the  foxglove,  each  of  them 
charming  plants  in  the  decking  of  our  rock-garden. 
It  is,  perhaps,  scarcely  necessary  to  indicate  which 
is  which,  since  few  who  feel  sufficient  interest  in 
Nature  to  turn  over  our  pages  can  require  an 
introduction  to  the  foxglove,  and  from  thence  they 
can  travel  from  the  known  to  the  unknown,  should 
the  rarer  rose-root  not  appeal  so  quickly  to  them. 

The  rose-root  should  be  sought  amidst  the  moun- 
tain crags  of  Scotland  and  Northern  England, 
where  it  may  often  be  found  in  profusion.  Its  grey 
and  succulent  foliage  give  the  plant  a  very  distinctive 
character.  It  is  a  lover  of  moisture — a  point  we 
must  not  overlook  in  transferring  it  from  its  moun- 
tain environment  to  our  rock-garden.  The  root  is 
large  and  woody  in  character,  yielding  when  dried  a 
strong  odour  that  has  been  compared  to  that  of 
roses  :  hence  its  popular  name.  It  is  a  near  relative 
to  the  house-leek,  the  beautiful  crimson-flowered 
orpine,  and  the  numerous  species  of  stone-crop,  all 
alike  acceptable  plants.  Its  old  monkish  name  was 
Rhodia  radix,  while  its  modern  specific  name  is  rho- 
diola,  each  name  testifying  to  the  rose-like  fragrance. 


252  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

No  flower  makes  a  grander  show  in  the  rock- 
garden  than  the  graceful  foxglove,  and  one  can 
scarcely  have  too  many  of  them,  since  they  make  a 
noble  background  to  the  smaller  things,  towering 
some  five  or  six  feet  above  them  in  long  columns 
of  crimson  or  white.  Botanically  the  plant  is  the 
Digitalis  purpurea,  but  the  flowers  are  much  more 
crimson  than  purple,  while  its  frequent  variation  to 
white  makes  the  specific  name  a  by  no  means  happy 
one.  Names  derived  from  colours  are  often  some- 
what unsatisfactory,  as  nothing,  perhaps,  in  a  plant 
is  more  subject  to  variation.  In  the  midst  of  a 
large  patch  of  bluebells  one  may  find  that  contra- 
diction of  terms  a  white  bluebell,  while  in  our 
gardens  the  various  colours  in  our  chrysanthemums 
make  their  name  entirely  inappropriate  when  we 
bestow  a  thought  upon  it,  derived  as  it  is  from  the 
two  Greek  words  signifying  golden  and  flower. 
Rose  in  like  manner  implies  a  red  flower.  A 
moment's  reflection  will  show  that  in  speaking  of 
yellow  roses,  white  lilac,  white  violets,  pink  chry- 
santhemums, we  use  terms  that  are  really  contra- 
dictory. The  crimson  orpine  of  our  hedgerows 
derives  its  name  from  the  Latin  auripigmentum, 
golden  colour,  the  name  having  got  somehow  trans- 
ferred from  a  species  where  it  was  entirely  appro- 
priate to  one  where  it  is  wholly  misleading. 

The  foxglove  has  for  centuries  been  held  in 
medicinal  repute,  and,  despite  its  charming  attrac- 


FOXGLOVE  IN  MEDICINE  253 

tiveness,  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  experiment  with. 
The  active  principle,  called  digitaline,  is  found  in 
the  leaves.  It  is  very  potent ;  one  grain  dissolved 
in  water  will  kill  a  rabbit  within  five  minutes,  and 
a  dose  administered  to  the  human  subject  will  often 
bring  the  pulse  down  from  a  hundred  and  twenty 
beats  a  minute  to  much  less  than  half  this.  The 
leaves  are  gathered  when  the  plant  is  flowering 
and  gradually  dried,  and  the  medical  infusion  is 
produced  by  steeping  thirty  grains  of  these  dried 
leaves  in  half  a  pint  of  boiling  water  for  an  hour  or 
so,  and  then  straining  off.  In  a  case  of  poisoning 
the  patient  becomes  dizzy,  staggers  helplessly, 
becomes  unconscious,  and  may  very  possibly  never 
rally;  but  the  best  antidote  is  the  immediate  and 
free  use  of  stimulants.  Its  great  medicinal  value  is 
in  diminishing  the  action  of  the  heart  and  acting  as 
a  sedative,  but  it  is  manifest  that  it  should  only  be 
administered  by  a  qualified  and  experienced  prac- 
titioner. In  any  case  it  is  a  rather  dangerous 
remedy,  unless  very  carefully  dealt  with,  as  its 
action  is  very  frequently  what  the  doctors  term 
cumulative ;  that  is  to  say,  a  number  of  small  doses 
may  be  given  with  apparently  very  little  effect,  and 
then  the  whole  will  act  suddenly  upon  the  system 
at  once  and  produce  very  alarming  symptoms.  It 
is  therefore  evidently  not  a  plant  for  rural  herb 
doctors  or  amateurs  to  meddle  with. 

In   olden    times    the  artist   was  his  own  colour- 


254  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

grinder  and  the  doctor  collected  his  own  herbs,  but 
in  these  latter  days  the  painter  looks  to  others 
and  gets  wonderful  chemical  pigments  much  more 
brilliant,  and  some  of  them  at  least  much  less 
permanent  than  those  used  by  the  artists  of  old, 
while  the  doctor,  far  too  busy  to  leave  his  round  of 
patients  for  a  day's  botanising,  trusts  to  others  to 
collect  the  necessary  raw  material  of  the  materia 
medica,  the  result  having  been  known  to  have 
sometimes  been  a  very  considerable  adulteration  by 
the  admixture  with  the  foxglove  leaves  of  those  of 
the  mullein  and  comfrey,  equally  common  plants. 
While,  however,  these  latter  fill  the  collector's  bag 
as  rapidly  as  those  of  the  foxglove  we  need  scarcely 
declare  that  this  is  almost  as  reprehensible  a  proceed- 
ing as  any  going,  since  it  is  most  important  that 
all  drugs  should  have  a  recognised  and  standard 
strength,  and  an  infusion  made  from  these  spurious 
leaves  intermixed  with  those  of  the  true  plant  would 
necessarily  be  much  less  powerful  and  reliable. 
This  would  lead  to  an  increase  in  the  dose,  when 
the  medical  man  found  that  the  first  administration 
was  producing  no  effect,  and  if  this  next  prepara- 
tion were  produced  from  an  unadulterated  sample 
the  infusion  would  be  much  more  potent  than  it 
was  at  all  supposed  to  be. 

As  the  aim  of  our  readers  will  rather  be  the 
growing  of  these  plants  for  their  beauty  than  for 
their  medicinal  virtues,  the  relative  strengths  of 


XLII. 


To  face  f>age  2j 


BUCK'S  HORN     PLANTAIN. 


GREAT  MULLEIN  255 

these  infusions  will  scarcely  become  a  matter  for 
much  consideration,  but  we  trust  that — though  not 
for  the  purposes  of  adulteration — they  will,  like 
ourselves,  make  room  in  their  pleasaunce  not  only 
for  the  lordly  foxglove,  but  extend  a  welcome  to  the 
scarcely  less  lordly  mullein,  and  find  suitable  space, 
the  damper  in  reason  the  better,  for  the  comfrey  too. 
The  foxglove  is  a  biennial,  but  when  it  has  once 
established  itself  it  seeds  so  freely,  that  there  is 
little  fear  of  our  losing  it. 

Some  half-dozen  species  of  mullein  are  found 
wild  in  Britain,  and  all  of  them  repay  search  and 
cultivation,1  but  the  finest,  as  well  as  the  commonest, 
is  the  great  mullein.  This  grows  to  some  four  feet 
in  height,  throwing  up,  like  the  foxglove,  one  noble, 
principal  stem,  which  may  or  may  not — and  ordi- 
narily the  latter — have  small  lateral  stems.  This 
central  stem  attains  to  some  four  feet  in  height, 
and  is  clothed  profusely  with  soft,  grey  hairs.  The 
leaves,  decurrent  for  some  distance  down  the  stem, 
are  also  conspicuously  woolly,  so  that  the  whole 
plant  has  a  soft,  flannel-like  look,  which  gives  it  a 
special  individuality  amongst  other  growths.  The 
golden  flowers  form  a  charming  contrast  to  their 
grey  setting.  This,  too,  is  a  biennial. 

1  Those  who  care  to  put  themselves  in  the  hands  of  the 
gardener  may  obtain  several  interesting  cultivated  mulleins, 
as,  for  instance,  the  Verbascum  phaeniceum,  a  plant  bearing 
purple  flowers  having  a  considerable  variation  of  tint. 


256  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

The  rose-root  depicted  on  our  last  Plate — XXXV. 
— reminds  us  that  we  may  not  unfrequently  meet,  on 
old  walls  and  cottage  roofs,  with  the  great  fleshy 
leaf- rosettes  of  the  house-leek,  an  allied  plant.  It 
is  in  reality  a  native  of  the  great  mountainous 
districts  of  Southern  and  Central  Europe,  but,  as 
an  introduced  plant,  has  taken  kindly  to  these 
northern  isles.  From  the  midst  of  the  mass  of 
succulent  foliage  rise  the  flower-stems,  headed  by 
their  groups  of  pink  and  star-shaped  blossoms. 
The  generic  name,  Sempervivum,  points  to  the 
abundant  vitality  of  the  plant  under  what  would 
certainly  appear  to  be  hard  conditions,  while  the 
specific  name,  tectorum,  indicates  that  it  is  a 
plant  to  be  found  on  roofs — sun-parched  spots  that 
would  speedily  wither  up  any  ordinary  plants  not 
accustomed  to  roasting  on  a  tile  in  the  fiery  glow 
of  a  July  day.  "  House-like,"  Maplet  tells  us, 
"in  Greek  is  called  Acizoon,  as  you  would  say, 
alwaies  alive.  It  is  alwaies  greene  and  well  liking. 
It  hath  a  fruitfull  leafe  in  the  thicknesse  of  a  man's 
thumbe :  in  the  end  thereof  it  is  sharpe  or  like  a 
tongue.  It  is  given  to  drinks,  sayth  Dioscorides, 
against  the  biting  of  the  greatest  kinde  of  spider. 
It  growthe  upon  walles  and  tiled  housen,  and 
is  many  ways  medicinable."  Old  country  house- 
wives have  great  faith  in  the  plant  as  a  remedy 
for  burns  or  scalds,  and  this,  no  doubt,  is  one 
reason  why  we  find  the  plant  at  home  on  their 


COTTAGE  KOOF  GARDENING  257 

cottage  roof.  The  second  half  of  the  popular 
name,  leek,  is  from  the  Anglo-Saxon  leac,  a 
plant.1  We  must  not  be  tempted  by  Maplet  into 
the  fatally  easy  suggestion  that  it  is  house-like 
because  it  likes  to  live  on  houses !  An  old  name 
for  the  plant  is  the  aye-green,  a  popular  version 
of  its  botanical  name.  Several  of  the  garden 
species  of  Sempervivum  are  well  worth  cultivation. 
In  some,  as  in  5".  arachnoideum,  the  surface  of  the 
rosettes  is  covered  with  a  light  grey  fibrous  network 
like  cobweb,  giving  a  very  curious  and  striking 
effect.  A  good  florist  will  be  prepared  to  supply 
some  thirty  species  on  demand. 

One  often  admires  in  some  old  country  village 
the  beauty  of  the  cottage  gardens,  gay  with  a 
profusion  of  blossom,  but  Nature's  cottage-roof 
gardening  is  often  no  less  interesting.  Given  an 
old  bit  of  thatch,  sinking  in  in  places  and  thus 

1  The  plants  we  still  know  as  the  leek  (in  Anglo-Saxon  days 
known  as  porleac),  and  garlic,  Anglo-Saxon  gar,  a  spear,  a 
leac,  from  its  sharp,  tapering  leaves,  are  other  illustrations  of 
the  survival  of  the  word.  In  Markham's  book  for  House- 
wives, written  in  1638,  we  have  a  recipe  given  "  to  helpe  the 
stinging  of  a  venomus  beast,  as  Adder,  Snake,  or  such  like." 
In  this  we  are  told  to  take  horehound,  tansy,  and  other 
herbs  as  a  preliminary,  and  amongst  these  we  find  porrets. 
These  are  leeks,  so  called  from  the  Latin  word  porrum.  It  is 
curious  that  while  the  Anglo-Saxon  is  porleac,  the  leek  plant, 
in  modern  usage  we  drop  the  first  half  and  call  the  vegetable 
a  leek,  while  Markham  drops  the  second  half  and  calls  the 
same  plant  a  porret. 

17 


258  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

holding  moisture,  the  flying  and  bird-carried  seeds 
will  soon  turn  it  into  a  garden  well-nigh  as  gay 
as  those  that  fringe  the  village  street.  On  such 
roofs  we  have  seen  masses  of  poppies  in  their 
gorgeous  scarlet,  and  wheat  and  oats  ripening  in 
the  sunshine,  to  say  nothing  of  mosses,  fungi,  ferns, 
and  all  sorts  of  other  vegetable  growths,  many  of 
which  entirely  puzzle  us  to  account  for  however 
they  got  there. 

As  such  roof-gardens  imply  decaying  beams 
rotting  beneath  them,  they  are,  from  a  sanitary 
point  of  view,  to  be  regretted.  The  lady  who 
comes  over  one  fine  afternoon  with  her  paint-box 
to  sketch  so  picturesque  a  "bit,"  and  the  old 
cottager  who  spends  her  life  beneath  these  musty 
ceilings,  regard  the  matter  from  different  stand- 
points, and  the  aesthetic  person  must  kindly  stand 
aside  while  the  man  with  prosaic  piping,  tiles,  and 
so  forth  comes  at  last  to  the  fore,  the  recurring 
outbreaks  of  fever,  diphtheria,  and  the  like  having 
become  somewhat  of  a  scandal  that  has  consider- 
ably smirched  the  good  name  of  this  Arcadian 
spot. 

How  some  Chinaman  first  discovered  the  suc- 
culent charm  of  roasted  pork  has  passed  into 
history.  It  was  afterwards  found  that  a  much 
simpler  method  was  as  fully  efficacious,  and  in 
like  manner  we  can  grow  in  our  rock-garden 
noble  plants  of  house-leek,  to  make  no  mention 


MARSH  ORCHIS  259 

of  poppies,  without  importing  a  cottage  roof  to 
carry  them.  Would  one  achieve  success,  it  is 
most  important  to  consider  the  idiosyncracies  of 
our  various  plants.  We  must  adapt  our  conditions 
to  them  :  they  have  little  or  no  idea  of  adapting 
themselves  to  us.  A  noble  tuft  of  our  common 
harebell  in  the  midst  of  rough  rockwork  is  as 
graceful  an  object  as  one  could  desire  to  see.  As 
it  in  a  wild  state  prospers  best  on  down  lands  and 
open  heaths,  we  must  see  to  it  that  its  place  in 
our  floral  fraternity  is  open  to  the  light  and  air 
and  in  a  position  as  dry  as  our  general  conditions 
will  permit,  while  the  transportation  of  our  noble 
yellow  kingcups  to  such  a  spot  would  mean  almost 
immediate  drooping  and  prompt  dissolution. 

The  central  flower  on  Plate  XXXVI.,  the  marsh 
orchis,  is  very  much  a  case  in  point,  as  it  is  ordi- 
narily found  in  very  wet  meadows.  It  will  grow 
grandly  if  we  are  careful  to  plant  it  in  a  moist 
position,  and  will  throw  up  a  stem  over  a  foot  in 
height,  its  dense  spike  of  rose-red,  or  purple,  or 
more  rarely  white  blossoms,  making  it  a  very 
attractive  plant.  In  the  "  Flora  Londinensis "  of 
Curtis — a  book  published  in  1798 — we  find  that 
it  was  then  growing  abundantly  in  the  Battersea 
meadows.  Those  meadows  we  well  remember, 
though  not  at  the  time  that  Curtis  visited  them. 
They  were  very  rough  and  irregular,  and  more 
or  less  deeply  cut  into  by  channels  from  the 


260  OUR  ROCK-GAEDEN 

Thames  that  filled  them  at  high  water — a  noble 
hunting  ground  for  all  kinds  of  water  plants,  but  now, 
alas  !  drained,  intersected  by  formal  gravel  paths, 
provided  with  bandstand,  refreshment-rooms  and 
all  the  adjuncts  that  go  to  form  a  park  of  the  most 
conventional  type.  The  marsh  orchis  approaches 
the  common  spotted  orchis  that  is  so  abundant  in 
the  Spring  in  pastures  and  open  woods,  and 
some  botanists  will  tell  us  that  it  is  but  a  variety 
of  it.  However  that  may  be,  we  may  well  include 
both  in  our  collection. 

The  wild  tulip  —  the  other  flower  on  Plate 
XXXVI. — represents  rather  an  aspiration  of  ours 
than  a  realisation.  It  has  been  sent  to  us,  but 
somehow  failed  to  respond  to  our  attempts  to 
make  it  welcome.  It  is  common  enough  in  some 
parts  of  the  Continent  in  pastures  and  on  waste 
ground,  and  is  perhaps  truly  as  indigenous  in  some 
of  our  English  counties.  It  would  be  an  interest- 
ing plant  to  add  to  one's  store. 

We  have  in  Britain  some  four  species  of  mallow, 
but  only  one  of  these  will  repay  cultivation,  the 
musk  mallow — Malva  moschata — a  plant  that  is  by 
no  means  difficult  to  grow.  It  is  a  perennial,  and 
will,  therefore,  when  once  established  give  us  no 
more  anxiety.  The  plant  is  some  one  to  two  feet 
high,  throwing  up  a  cluster  of  almost  erect  stems. 
These  bear  richly-cut  leaves,  and  at  their  summits 
numerous  large  rose-coloured  flowers,  or  it  may 


SAXIFRAGA    RHEI.     RANUNCULUS    AMPLEXICAULIS 
SAXIFRAGA    CYMBALARIA. 


To  face  page  260 


MALLOWS  261 

occasionally  be  found  bearing  white  blossoms,  but 
this  variation,  though  interesting  and  a  good  thing 
to  possess,  is  not  really  so  attractive  as  the  normal 
pink-flowered  plant.  The  musk  mallow  is  found 
chiefly  on  chalk  or  gravel. 

The  common  mallow — M.  sylvestris — is  abundant 
almost  everywhere,  and  will,  without  invitation, 
find  a  footing  in  our  garden  if  it  can,  and  if  it  be 
once  fairly  in  possession  will  prove  a  trouble,  as 
it  seeds  very  freely,  and  occupies  a  good  deal  of 
ground.  It  is  difficult,  too,  to  eradicate.  We 
sympathise  then  with  Tusser,  who  warns  the  farmer 
that,  as  part  of  the  work  of  the  Spring — 

"  Thy  garden  plot  latelie  well  trenched  and  muckt, 
Should  now  be  twifallowd,  the  mallowes  out  pluckt." 

Hilman,  in  his  "Tusser  Redivivus,"  published  in 
1710,  amplifies  this  in  the  additional  caution  :  "  In 
trenching,  bury  no  mallow,  nettle-dock,  or  briony 
roots."  In  another  passage  Tusser  warns  us  to 
clear  from  our  ground — 

"  Grasse,  thistle,  and  mustard  seede,  hemlock  and  bur, 
Tine,  mallow,  and  nettle,  that  keepe  such  a  stur." 

The  marsh  mallow  one  would  gladly  include  in 
one's  collection  of  interesting  things,  but  its  special 
fondness  for  marshy  land  in  maritime  districts 
debars  its  successful  cultivation.  Many  kinds  of 


262  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

non- British  mallows  are  to  be  found  in  gardens, 
of  which  the  hollyhock  is  perhaps  the  best 
known. 

The  various  species  of  mallow  yield  a  large 
amount  of  mucilage,  and  have  therefore  been 
largely  used  as  emollients  in  rural  pharmacy,  a 
decoction  of  the  leaves  being  used  to  allay  by  its 
soothing  nature  throat,  lung,  and  other  troubles. 
The  foliage  macerated  has  also  been  found  of  great 
value  as  a  fomentation  for  the  eyes  in  ophthalmia, 
in  cutaneous  troubles  and  abrasions,  and  as  a 
gargle.  In  France  the  marsh  mallow  is  the 
guimauve,  and  in  lozenge  form  the  patd  de 
guimauve  is  a  very  popular  medicine.  The  root 
is  found  to  contain  nearly  half  its  weight  in  muci- 
laginous matter,  while  the  leaves  yield  about  a 
quarter.  The  French  word  means  viscous  mallow. 
The  roots  are  preferably  collected  for  medicinal 
purposes  in  the  Autumn,  and  plants  not  less  than 
two  years'  old  should  be  taken. 

Pliny  recommends  boiling  the  roots  in  sweet  new 
milk  as  a  soothing  drink,  while  other  old  writers 
suggest  that  they  may  be  boiled  in  vinegar  as  an 
external  application  for  toothache.  We  also  find 
other  applications,  sometimes  with  wine,  sometimes 
with  grease  or  turpentine,  but  all  emollient  in  effect. 
Maplet,  we  see,  suggests  in  his  book,  "  A  Greene 
Forest,"  published  in  1567,  that  a  preparation  of 
"  Malew  lyquor  or  iuyce,  contempred  with  any 


MILFOIL,  OR  YARROW  263 

clammy  Oyle,   being   annoynted   vpon   any   man's 
body  he  cannot  be  stung  with  Bees." 

The  mallows  also  yield  a  valuable  fibre  for  paper- 
making  and  textile  purposes,  but  as  other  plants, 
such  as  hemp  and  flax,  are  yet  better,  this  use  of  the 
mallow  scarcely  comes  to  the  fore. 

The  milfoil,  or  yarrow — Achillea  millefolium — is 
one  of  the  commonest  roadside  plants,  and  may  there- 
fore be  deemed,  by  those  whose  tastes  are  not  very 
catholic,  unworthy  of  a  place,  if  indeed  it  be  not 
stigmatised  as  a  rank  weed  to  be  ejected  at  sight ; 
yet  a  plant  or  two  springing  up  here  and  there 
amidst  our  rock-work  may  well  be  permitted,  since 
the  foliage  is  very  distinctive  in  character  and  its 
long,  flower-bearing  stems  have  a  wild  freedom  of 
growth  that  appeals.  The  foliage  varies  very  con- 
siderably in  colour  effect,  being  sometimes  of  a  dull 
green,  and  at  other  times  so  covered  with  little 
hairs  as  to  give  it  a  silvery  appearance.  The 
clusters  of  blossom,  normally  white,  are  not  un- 
frequently  pink,  and  both  should  be  cultivated. 
An  allied  plant — the  A.  Ptarmica,  or  sneeze  wort — 
with  its  groups  of  daisy-like  flowers,  should  also  be 
included.  These  are  the  only  two  English  species 
of  the  genus,  but  it  contains  many  attractive 
Alpine  and  other  species,  well  adapted  to  culture, 
and  those  who  desire  to  extend  their  experience  of 
it  will  readily  procure  from  their  florist  divers  species 
of  Achillea  that  will  thrive  in  any  ordinary  garden, 


264  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

some  having  white  flowers,  others  rose-coloured, 
or  various  strengths  of  yellow.1  On  Plate  XL  I. 
the  right-hand  figure  is  one  of  these  fair  aliens, 
the  A.  rupestris.  It  forms  a  charming  addition  to 
one's  rock-garden.  Another  very  attractive  white 
flower  that  is  equally  desirable  is  the  plant  that 
companions  it  on  the  Plate,  the  Iberis  sempervirens, 
one  of  the  many  species  of  candy-tuft.  Yet  another 
achillea  may  be  found  on  Plate  L.  The  particular 
plant  from  which  our  illustration  was  taken  hailed 
originally  from  Switzerland,  but  the  plant — the  A. 
tomentosa — is  also  a  member  of  the  British  flora. 
It  is,  however,  but  rarely  met  with,  and  can  make 
no  claim  to  be  really  indigenous.  It  was  at  one 
time  much  cultivated  from  a  belief  in  its  medical 
efficacy. 

The  tansy  was  one  of  the  valued  medical  herbs 
of  our  forefathers,  or  perhaps,  more  especially,  of 
our  foremothers.  "  Tanzie "  appears  twice,  we 
see,  in  Tusser's  lists  of  plants  to  be  cultivated. 
Amongst  the  "  herbes  for  the  kitchen,"  and  amongst 
the  "strowing  herbes/'  these  latter  being  in  place 
of  carpets  as  a  floor-covering.  Tusser's  selection 
includes  "  Bassel,  baulme,  isop,  lauender,  sage, 

1  A.  cegvptiaca  has  its  flower-heads  of  a  pale  yellow,  while 
A.  filipendula,  A.  aurea,  or  A.  tomentosa  are  of  a  deeper 
yellow.  They  vary  considerably,  too,  in  the  leaf-colourings. 
A.  umbellata  has,  for  example,  very  finely  cut  and  minute 
leaves  of  quite  silvery  sheen. 


USES  OF  TANSY  265 

penabriall,"  and  many  other  fragrant  herbs.  These 
must  surely  have  got  terribly  in  the  way,  and  when 
crushed  there  would  be  no  slight  risk  of  being 
thrown  smartly  down  by  them  on  the  hard  stone 
floors  that  our  ancestors  affected. 

The  tansy  is  bitter  to  the  taste  and  tonic  in  its 
operation.  Opinions  differ  so  widely  on  odours 
that  it  will  scarcely  do  to  dogmatise,  so  we  will 
content  ourselves  with  pointing  out  that  to  some 
the  plant  is  aromatic,  while  others  would  choose 
a  less  kindly  word  to  define  their  opinion.  On 
distillation  the  plant  yields  an  essential  oil,  and  it 
would  appear  that  it  is  to  this  it  owes  such  active 
medicinal  properties  as  it  possesses  or  is  credited 
with.  Like  many  other  herbs  its  fame  has  dwindled 
in  these  latter  days.  Gerard  and  many  other  early 
writers  are  loud  in  its  praise,  but  whatever  its 
healing  virtues  our  physicians  now  look  elsewhere. 
The  tansy  was  also  largely  introduced  as  an  ingre- 
dient in  omelettes  and  cakes  in  medical  cookery, 
while  tansy-pudding  was  a  favourite  dish  for 
centuries.  Cogan,  in  his  "  Haven  of  Health," 
writes:  " Tansy  is  much  used  amongst  vs  in 
England  about  Easter,  with  fried  eggs,  not  without 
good  cause,  to  purge  away  the  fleame  engendered 
of  fish  in  Lent  season,"  while  a  much  earlier 
authority  instructs  us  to — 

"  Breke  egges  in  basyn,  and  swynge  hem  sone, 
Do  powder  of  peper  therto  anone, 


266  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

Then  grynde  tansay,  the  juse  owte  wrynge 
To  blynde  with  the  egges,  withowte  lesynge. 
In  pan  or  skelet  thou  shalt  hit  frye 
In  butter  well  skymm  et  wyturly. 

In  an  old  book  called  the  "  Footman's  Directory," 
by  one  Cosnett,  we  find  that  one  of  the  duties  was 
to  "  put  a  sprig  or  two  of  Tansy  at  the  bed  head,  or 
as  near  the  pillow  as  the  smell  may  be  agreable  in 
order  that  his  master's  rest  might  not  be  disturbed 
by  those  nocturnal  visitors  to  whom  the  odour  was 
an  offence." 

The  tansy  attains  to  a  height  of  some  three  feet 
or  so,  the  stems  branching  but  little  except  at  the 
top,  where  they  support  a  large  mass  of  bright 
yellow  flowers.  The  leaves  are  very  deeply  cut. 
One  may  find  the  plant  on  the  borders  of  fields  and 
by  the  roadside  on  that  broad  fringe  of  verdure  that 
borders  so  often  our  country  highways,  and  more 
especially  where  the  ground  is  of  chalky  or  sandy 
nature,  and,  as  it  has  very  freely  growing,  creeping 
roots  it  quickly  spreads  and  forms  large  masses. 
Our  first  ambition  was  to  grow  the  tansy,  and  in 
this  we  experienced  no  difficulty,  the  subsequent 
trouble  was  when  we  sought  to  keep  it  within 
reasonable  bounds. 

The  popular  name  is  a  corruption  of  the  old 
monkish  name  Athanasia,  a  word  meaning  im- 
mortality. Ambrosinus  tells  us  in  his  "  Phytologia  " 
that  it  was  thus  called  because  a  dead  body,  if 


PRIMULA     FRONDOSA,     SAXIFRAGA    WALLACE!, 
SAXIFRAGA    TOMBEANENSIS. 


To  face  page  266 


WORMWOOD  267 

exposed  to  the  preservative  effects  of  the  distilled 
oil,  suffered  no  decay ;  but  whatever  this  precise 
statement  may  be  worth  it  does  not  indicate  un- 
ending life.  Others  tell  us  that  the  constant  re- 
course to  the  healing  virtues  of  the  plant  preserves 
the  health  and  life  itself  far  beyond  the  allotted 
span  of  mankind  who  have  neglected  so  great  a 
boon ;  but  after  all  there  is  a  considerable  diffe- 
rence between  a  centenarian  and  an  immortal,  while 
Lyte  can  give  us  no  better  explanation  than  that 
the  tansy  flowers  in  their  blossoming  last  longer 
than  most,  which  also  does  not  take  us  very  far 
on  the  road  to  immortality. 

The  wormwood  is  another  plant  to  which  we 
gladly  extend  hospitality,  both  for  its  own  sake 
and  for  the  associations  that  have  gathered  round 
it  as  a  plant  of  great  healing  power.  The  flowers 
are  small,  of  a  dullish  yellow,  and  inconspicuous, 
but  the  leaves  are  very  pleasing  in  form  and  of  a 
pale  silvery-grey,  so  that  the  plant,  as  a  mass, 
stands  out  with  bold  individuality  from  amongst 
its  fellows.  It  is  some  two  feet  or  so  in  height 
and  branches  freely,  so  that  it  becomes  a  more  or 
less  rotund  bush.  Botanically  the  wormwood  is  the 
Artemesia  Absinthium — titles  which  carry  us  far 
back  indeed  in  the  records  of  botanical  science.  The 
generic  name,  some  would  tell  us,  is  derived  from 
Artemis,  the  Diana  of  the  Greeks,  whose  glorious 
shrine  at  Ephesus  was  one  of  the  wonders  of  the 


268  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

ancient  world,  while  others  have  it  that  it  was 
derived  from  Artemesia,  the  wife  of  King  Mansolus, 
who,  according  to  Pliny,  bestowed  on  this  plant  her 
name.  Whichever  theory  may  be  correct,  we  find 
the  plant  thus  named  by  Hippocrates,  who  was 
born  centuries  before  the  Christian  era.  The 
specific  name  is  from  the  Greek  apsinthion,  an 
alternative  name  for  the  plant  which  at  all  events 
dates  from  the  commencement  of  the  Christian  era, 
since  we  find  it  in  the  writings  of  Dioscorides.  In 
modern  days  we  find  the  named  revived  in  absinthe, 
a  preparation  largely  distilled  from  this  plant.  The 
Greek  word  signifies  without  delight,  lacking  attrac- 
tiveness, and  may  have  been  suggested  by  the 
inconspicuous  flowers  or  in  allusion  to  the  very 
bitter  taste  of  the  plant. 

While  possibly  an  indigenous  plant,  the  wormwood 
is  so  markedly  found  in  the  neighbourhood  of  ruins 
as  to  justify  us  in  assuming  that,  at  least  in  many 
cases,  it  is  a  survival  from  the  old  herb-garden  of 
the  monastery  or  manor-house.  The  plant  has  for 
centuries  been  held  in  high  esteem  as  a  tonic  and 
febrifuge.  Gerard,  we  note,  commends  it  to  us  as 
a  welcome  remedy  from  the  biting  of  the  dreaded 
shrew-mouse  or  the  venom  of  the  sea-dragon,  while 
generation  after  generation  of  our  forefathers  re- 
garded the  wormwood  as  a  potent  remedy  against 
witchcraft  and  the  evil  powers  of  necromancy. 
Hence  they  suspended  it  in  .their  houses  or 


USES  OF  WORMWOOD  269 

wore  a  sprig  of  it  against  their  bodies,  and  on 
Midsummer  Eve  a  large  bunch  of  it  was  burnt, 
its  pungent  fumes  penetrating  the  dwelling  being 
held  amply  sufficient  to  rid  the  house  for  the  en- 
suing year  from  magic,  the  evil  eye,  and  malign 
supernatural  agencies  of  all  degrees  of  power  and 
terror. 

The  popular  English  name  has  suggested  the 
use  of  the  plant  as  an  anthelmintic,  but  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  name  was  wermod,  a  name  derived  from 
werian,  to  ward  off,  and  mod,  a  maggot,  the  plant 
being  used  to  preserve  meat  from  becoming  thus 
attacked.  By  a  curious  transference  the  first  half 
of  the  word  subsequently  appropriated  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  second  half,  and  the  wer  became 
corrupted  into  "worm." 

The  following  extract  from  Lovell  (1665)  is  fairly 
representative  of  the  popular  esteem  in  which  the 
plant  was  long  held  :  "  Worme  wood,"  he  writes,  "  is 
bitter  and  strengthening.  It  preserveth  and  healeth 
surfeits,  resists  putrefaction,  preserves  from  moths 
and  gnats.  It  is  good  in  pultices.  It  helps  them 
that  are  strangled  with  mushroomes,  drunk  with 
vinegar,  with  hony  the  marks  of  bruises  as  also 
dimme  eyes.  The  spirit  is  good  to  cheer  hypo- 
chrondriacall  l  persons."  Cogan,  in  his  "  Haven 

1  "Wormwood,  centaury,  pennyroyal  are  magnified  and 
much  prescribed,  especially  in  hypochrondrian  melancholy, 
daily  to  be  used,  sod  in  whey." — BURTON,  a  Anatomy  of 
Melancholy." 


270  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

of  Health,"  briefly  commends  the  tonic  value  of 
the  herb.  "There  is  to  be  had  in  the  Stilliard  l  at 
London,"  he  instructs  his  readers,  "a  kind  of  wine 
named  Worme-wood  wine,  which  I  would  wish  to 
be  much  used  of  all  such  as  be  weake  of  stomacke. 
They  may  easily  haue  a  rundlet  of  three  or  foure 
gallons  or  lesse,  and  which  they  may  draw  within 
their  owne  chambers  as  neede  requireth.  I  was 
woont  when  appetite  failed  to  steepe  a  branch  or 
two  of  common  Wormewood  in  halfe  a  pint  of  good 
white  wine,  close  couered  in  some  pot  all  night,  and 
in  the  morning  to  straine  it  through  a  clean  linen 
cloth  and  put  in  a  little  sugar  and  warme  it,  and  so 
drinke  it.  Or  sometimes  to  burne  a  little  quantitie 
of  wine  with  sugar,  and  a  branch  or  two  of  Worme- 

1  Good  housewives  have  always,  and  ordinarily  very 
properly,  a  good  conceit  of  the  various  preparations  they 
are  responsible  for,  and  when  we  are  told  that  a  thing  is 
"  home-made  "  one  is  expected  to  realise  that  it  is  necessarily 
superior  to  anything  that  can  be  got  outside,  and  to  express 
that  belief  unfalteringly.  In  a  quaint  old  book,  published  in 
1602,  and  entitled  u  Delightes  for  Ladies,"  these  good  house- 
wives may  pick  up  various  useful  hints,  one  being  "how- 
to  make  Wormewood  wine."  To  effect  this  we  merely 
"take  small  Rochell  or  Coniake  wine,  put  a  few  dropes 
of  the  extracted  oile  of  wormewood  therein,  and  brewe 
together  out  of  one  pot  into  another,"  the  happy  result 
being  that  "you  shall  have  a  more  neate  and  wholsom 
wine  than  that  which  is  solde  at  the  Stillyard  for  right 
Wormewood  wine."  Note  the  quiet  sarcasm,  it  is  sold 
for  the  right  article,  but  that  is  all  the  guarantee  the 
purchaser  gets! 


HONESTY  REARING  271 

wood  put  into  it,  wherein  I  have  found  many  times 
marvellous  commoditie." 

Honesty  should  find  a  place  in  our  regard,  not 
only  morally  but  horticulturally.  It  is  ordinarily 
a  very  easy  plant  to  grow,  and  its  cruciform  purple 
blossoms  are  attractive.  It  flowers  freely,  and  when 
once  established  keeps  itself  going  each  year  by  its 
self-sown  seedlings.  We  qualify  our  cultural  remark 
by  an  added  "  ordinarily,"  as  we  recall  that  a  legal 
friend  of  ours  was  so  struck  with  it  that  he  en- 
deavoured to  introduce  it  into  his  garden.  It  reso- 
lutely refused  to  grow,  and  thereby  gave  his  friends, 
who  declined  to  see  in  it  merely  a  curious  coinci- 
dence, occasion  to  make  unkind  remarks.  The 
seed-vessels  are  very  large,  circular,  flat,  of  a  silvery 
sheen,  and  semi-transparent,  so  that  one  can  readily 
detect  the  seeds  contained  therein.  The  plant  de- 
rives its  name  of  honesty  from  these  seed-carriers, 
but  these  are  at  best  but  semi-transparent ;  the  plant 
should  therefore,  presumably,  be  termed  modified 
honesty,  and  this  is  not  honesty  at  all.  It  is  a 
plant  of  many  names,  and  all  of  them  descriptive  : 
lunaria,1  penny-flower,  silver-platter,  money-flower, 
while  in  France  it  is  the  medal-plant,  white  satin 
plant,  and  wherever  we  find  it  elsewhere  abroad 
it  will  be  known  by  some  such  name.  Drayton 

1  "  And  herbes  coude  I  tell  eke  many  on, 
As  egrimaine,  valerian,  and  lunarie." 

CHAUCER. 


272  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

calls  it  the  "  enchanting  lunary,"  for  in  earlier  days 
it  was  held  in  great  respect  from  its  reputed  magical 
powers.  Hence  elsewhere  Dray  ton  tells  how  the 
juice  of  rue, 

"With  nine  drops  of  the  midnight  dew 
From  Lunary  distilling" 

has  mysterious  influence  in  the  hands  of  the  sor- 
cerer, the  wizard,  and  such-like  uncanny  workers 
of  mystery.  However  this  may  be,  we  need  have 
no  qualms  of  conscience  in  brightening  up  our 
garden  with  its  blossoms.  The  pods  dry  very 
well,  and  if  we  so  please  we  can  preserve  them 
through  the  winter  as  reminders  of  the  pleasant 
has-been  and  emblems  of  hope  for  the  anticipated 
may-be,  when,  winter  safely  over,  we  look  forward 
to  a  renewal  of  all  the  pleasures  that  a  garden 
brings  to  those  attuned  to  its  delights. 

The  graceful  growth  and  long  lines  of  golden 
pea-like  flowers  of  the  yellow  melilot — Melilotus 
officinalis — will  give  it  ready  entrance  and  a  hearty 
welcome.  The  generic  name  is  derived  from  two 
Greek  words  signifying  honey  and  the  lotus  flower, 
and  it  may  be  accepted  with  certainty  that  whatever 
plant  was  the  melilotus  of  the  ancients  it  was  not  the 
one  that  is  now  so  named.  The  melilot  grows  to  a 
height  of  some  three  or  four  feet,  and  though  it  may 
be  found  occasionally  by  the  roadsides,  on  railway 


XI,V. 


ECHMACEA    PURPUREA 
To  face  page  272 


THE  MELILOTS  273 

banks,  and  elsewhere,  it  is  by  no  means  common. 
The  specific  name  refers  to  its  officinal  use  in 
former  days.  Like  most  other  plants  it  was  held 
to  have  great  medicinal  value,  being  used  by  our 
ancestors  for  very  widely  differing  affections,  but  it 
would  appear  to  have  little  or  no  real  efficacy.  One 
of  its  old  names  is  the  plaster  clover,  in  obvious 
reference  to  its  external  application  to  wounds  and 
inflammations.  It  has,  when  dried,  a  very  fragrant 
odour,  much  resembling  that  of  the  woodruff  under 
similar  conditions,  and  by  a  process  of  distillation  a 
scent  has  been  procured.  The  melilot,  too,  at  one 
time  was  much  in  use  as  a  fodder  plant,  being 
relished  greatly  by  cattle  and  horses,  but  other 
plants  have  superseded  it.  Gruyere  cheese  owes 
its  distinctive  flavour  in  great  measure  to  the 
flowers  and  seeds  of  the  melilot,  these  being  bruised 
and  mixed  with  the  curd  during  the  process  of 
manufacture ;  and  the  plant  has  been  commended 
as  a  useful  panacea  against  the  ravages  of  clothes' 
moths.  An  allied  species,  the  white  melilot,  is 
equally  worth  entrance  into  our  rock-garden.  It 
differs  from  the  other  in  that  the  blossoms  instead 
of  being  yellow  are  pure  white.  It  is  a  still  more 
doubtful  native  than  the  preceding,  and  was  prob- 
ably introduced  inadvertently  into  this  country 
with  corn  and  with  other  seeds,  or,  possibly,  with 
ballast.  It  is  now  found  scattered  fairly  freely  in 
many  localities. 

18 


274  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

"  Cokkell,"  wrote  Maplet  over  three  hundred 
years  ago,  "  is  an  vnprofitable  Herbe,  or  rather 
(to  give  him  his  right  name)  a  hurtfull  weede,  which 
will  alwayes  be  medling  with  the  pure  Wheate,  and 
doth  often  choke  it  vp,  and  hindreth  his  growth  : 
So  that  the  old  Proverbe  is  herein  verified,  the  ill 
weede  ouercroppeth  the  good  corne."  This  passage 
suggests  another  venerable  old  saw  that  reminds  us 
how  promptly  the  dog's  fate  is  sealed  and  his  speedy 
death  by  suspension  sure  if  only  we  asperse  his 
character,  but  we  are  really  not  quite  prepared  to 
disown  an  old  friend  at  Maplet's  instigation.  Any 
one  who  has  seen  the  corn-cockle,  not  choking  the 
wheat  or  being  choked  by  it,  but  standing  alone  in 
the  garden  and  given  a  fair  chance,  will  agree  with 
us  that  its  removal  to  the  rubbish-heap  would  be  an 
absurdity.  We  have  seen  it  under  such  conditions 
over  four  feet  high  and  blooming  profusely,  a  delight 
to  the  eye.  The  rich  purple  blossoms  are  very 
showy,  and  the  five  long  green  points  of  the  calyx 
standing  boldly  out  around  the  petals  give  it  a 
singularly  handsome  appearance.  Its  botanical 
name,  Agrostemma,  signifying  crown  of  the  field, 
suggests  something  a  little  above  a  noisome  weed ! 

Another  denizen  of  the  farmer's  wheat-field,  or 
springing  up  amidst  his  turnips  or  other  green 
crops,  is  the  corn-marigold,  one  of  the  largest  and 
gayest  of  the  starry  golden  blossoms  of  our  summer 
season.  One  must  confess  that  it  does  sometimes 


FEVERFEW  275 

grow  so  freely  that  it  becomes  a  troublesome  weed 
to  the  farmer,  but,  transferred  to  our  rock-garden,  a 
good  clump  of  it  in  free  flower-bearing  well  deserves 
warm  welcome.  It  is  a  very  near  relative  to  the 
ox-eye,  a  plant  that  we  have  already  referred  to, 
and  which,  year  by  year,  throws  up  its  effective 
gold  and  white  flower-heads  amidst  our  other 
blooms. 

The  feverfew  is  another  of  the  composites  that 
we  must  find  space  for,  its  clustering  heads  of  daisy- 
like  flowers  being  very  attractive.  It  is  closely 
allied  to  the  camomile,  and  a  garden  variety  of  it 
may  often  be  found  in  cultivation,  the  "  golden 
feather."  Tusser,  we  see,  commends  it  to  the  good 
housewife,  but  calls  it  the  fetherfew,  thereby  missing 
the  whole  point  of  the  name.  It  was  called  fever- 
few from  its  monkish  name,  febrifuga,  the  idea 
being  that,  owing  to  its  valuable  medicinal  proper- 
ties, fever  would  be  driven  away  when  the  patient 
was  dosed  with  it.  It  possesses  considerable  tonic 
and  stimulant  power,  though  its  use  is  now  a  thing 
of  the  past.  The  feverfew  is  fairly  common  on 
waste  ground,  but  it  may  be  regarded  as  in  many 
cases  an  escape,  a  descendant  from  an  ancestor 
held  in  esteem  in  the  herb-garden. 

Some  of  the  old  herbals  commend  the  feverfew 
as  "an  especiall  remedy  against  opium  that  is  taken 
too  liberally  "  ;  a  curious  revelation  this  of  mediaeval 
habits,  as  we,  most  of  us  probably,  have  been  in 


276  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

the  habit  of  regarding  indulgence  in  opium  as  a 
comparatively  modern  vice.  Camerarius  affirms 
that  in  Italy  it  is  "  fryed  with  egges,  as  wee  doe 
tansies,  and  eaten  with  great  delight."  An  appli- 
cation of  the  bruised  leaves  of  the  feverfew  with  a 
little  salt  and  powdered  glass  was  once  in  great 
vogue  as  a  remedy  for  ague,  being  bound  to  the 
wrists  of  the  patient.  "  I  see  no  reason  wherefore," 
candidly  writes  one  old  authority,  when  it  comes  to 
adding  the  glass,  and  more  recent  authorities  would 
be  disposed  to  agree  with  him.  "  The  feuerfew 
ioyeth  to  grow  any  rubbish.  There  is  oftentimes 
found  when  it  is  digged  up  a  little  cole  vnder  the 
strings  of  the  roote,  and  neuer  without  it,  wherof 
Cardane,  in  his  booke  of  Subtelties,  setteth  downe 
diuers  vaine  and  trifling  things."  The  fact  of  "a 
little  cole  "  being  found  in  a  rubbish-heap  does  not 
strike  us  as  altogether  improbable.  It  is  curious  to 
notice  how  the  old  writer  gathers  assurance  as  his 
fable  unravels  itself:  he  commences  by  "  oftentimes," 
but  soon  gets  to  "  always,"  feeling,  doubtless,  that  a 
halting  and  wavering  narrative  would  receive  but  a 
halting  and  wavering  reception. 

The  common  red  campion — Lychnis  diurna — that 
we  find  so  commonly  in  the  country  hedges  in  the 
early  Summer,  we  always  welcome,  since  in  its 
growth  and  colouring  it  is  a  very  attractive  plant. 
We  figure  it  on  Plate  XL VI.  In  addition  to  the 
clear  pink  of  the  corolla  the  whole  plant  is  often 


FLAX-LEAVED  GOLDILOCKS  277 

of  a  rich  warm  brown.  Its  sister  species,  the  white 
campion — L.  vespertina — must  also  have  a  place 
in  our  regard.  We  have  grown  it  quite  a  yard  in 
height,  and  when  one  visits  it  in  the  evening  when 
its  numerous  pure  white  flowers  are  expanded  it 
forms  a  charming  feature.  Both  these  species  are 
common  enough  almost  anywhere,  but  not  therefore 
to  be  by  any  means  despised. 

The  yellow-flowered  plant  on  Plate  XXXVII.  is 
the  flax-leaved  goldilocks,  sent  to  us  from  Torquay. 
It  is  found  in  abundance  on  Barry  Head,  due  south 
of  the  town,  across  Torbay.  While  really  a  plant 
of  Southern  and  Central  Europe,  it  has  strayed  so 
far  north  as  the  southern  and  western  coasts  of 
England,  where  it  may  be  found,  but  very  locally, 
growing  in  clefts  of  the  rocks.  It  may  be  found, 
for  instance,  at  Worle  Hill,  in  Somerset,  and  at 
Weston-super-Mare,  and  abundantly  on  that  noble 
mass  of  rock,  the  Great  Orme,  near  Llandudno. 

The  central  stem  grows,  as  our  drawing  indicates, 
boldly  erect,  and  may  be  anything  from  about  six 
to  fourteen  inches  high.  The  flower-heads,  for  it 
is  a  composite,  are  borne  in  clusters  on  numerous 
small  lateral  stems,  and  form  a  more  or  less  terminal 
mass.  August  and  September  are  the  months  of 
its  blossoming.  Botanically  our  plant  is  the  Lino- 
syris  vulgaris,  the  Latin  for  flax  being  linum,  while 
osyris  was  a  name  bestowed  by  Pliny  on  a  plant, 
this  or  another,  one  cannot  pronounce  definitely, 


278  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

that  had  flax-like  leaves.  The  specific  name  signi- 
fies that  the  plant  is  of  common  occurrence.  It  was 
bestowed  by  Linneus,  but  so  far  as  England  is 
concerned  is  an  entire  misnomer  ;  the  plant,  though 
locally  common,  is  distinctly  rare.  It  is  a  lover  of 
the  limestone  and  the  littoral,  and  we  are  bound  to 
confess  that  it  soon  perished  with  us,  as  our  inland 
position  supplied  neither  of  these  prepossessions. 
It  is,  however,  an  interesting  plant,  and  we  gladly 
figure  it,  since  many  persons  have  never  seen  it. 
As  we  have  another  goldilocks,  one  of  our  numerous 
buttercups,  the  present  species  is  differentiated  by 
the  prefix  flax-leaved.  The  second  figure  on  the 
Plate  is  the  flax  itself;  the  similarity  in  foliage 
between  the  two  plants  is  very  marked.  The  toad- 
flax, a  plant  that  we  have  already  referred  to,  bears 
this  common  name,  and  also  its  less  used  local 
name  of  flax-weed,  from  its  flax-like  foliage. 

The  cultivated  species  of  flax  are  very  charming. 
We  have  four  wildlings,  but  those  who  like  to  go 
outside  this  narrow  limit  and  invoke  the  aid  of 
the  florist  have  a  very  considerable  choice.  The 
Linumflavum,  or  the  L.  campanulatum,  are  yellow- 
flowered  ;  the  L.  viscosum  purple  ;  the  L.  provin- 
ciate deep  blue.  Others — we  need  not  give  them  in 
detail — are  pure  white  or  in  varying  tints  of  blue. 
Those  who  would  cultivate  any  kind  of  flax  success- 
fully must  remember  that  they  all  enjoy  a  sunny 
aspect  and  a  dry  soil. 


XI,  VI. 


5,,  „ 


'8* 


GLOBULARIA    CORDIFOLIA,    RANUNCULUS    MONTANUS, 
LYCHNIS    DIURNA. 


To  face  page  278. 


CHAPTER   X 

The  chequered  fritillary,  or  snake's-head — Orange  balsam 
— Yellow  balsam — Forget-me-not — Mediaeval  dread  of 
the  scorpion — Ground  pine — Rosemary — The  flower 
of  remembrance — Rue — Fennel — The  serpent's  medi- 
cine— Ragwort — Hare's-ear — The  pearly  cudweed — 
Milk-thistle — Apple — Mediaeval  pomatum — Sea  buck- 
thorn— Buck's-horn  plantain — Echmacea — Globularia — 
A  fernless  rock-garden  unthinkable — Brake — Male  fern 
— The  gift  of  invisibility — Lady  fern — Hart's-tongue — 
Royal  fern — Adder's-tongue — Polypody — Hard  fern — 
Scale  fern — Black  spleenwort — Fungi — Autumn  foliage. 

THE  fritillary  should  find  a  welcome  home 
amidst  our  floral  treasures,  its  early  flowering 
and  its  quaint  form  of  colouring  being  points  much 
in  its  favour.  The  wildling,  the  only  English  species 
of  the  genus,  and  the  one  that  we  are  now  com- 
mending, is  the  Fritillaria  Meleagris,  but  the 
gardeners,  if  we  will  have  it  so,  will  supply  us 
with  a  rich  variety  of  outlanders.1  The  great  bell- 

1  As  the  charming  F.  pudica,  with  bright  yellow  flowers, 
a  native  of  the  Western  States  of  the  great  American  Union, 
and  the  still  more  brilliant  compatriot,  the  F.  recurva,  having 
flowers  of  a  rich  chequering  of  yellow  on  a  scarlet  ground. 

279 


280  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

like  pendent  flowers  of  the  chequered  fritillary,  as 
our  present  plant  is  often  called,  is  ordinarily  of  a 
reddish-purple,  very  regularly  marked,  chess-board 
fashion,  with  squares  of  darker  purple.  The  flower 
may  sometimes  be  found  almost  entirely  without 
these  chequers,  being  then  all  purple,  or  occasionally 
white. 

The  fritillary  is  so  called  from  the  Latin  fritillus, 
a  board  marked  in  squares  for  a  game  anciently 
played  with  dice,  while  the  specific  name  Meleagris 
is  given  to  the  plant  also  as  a  token  of  its  chequer- 
ing, the  guinea-fowl — Numidia  Meleagris — being  in 
some  degree  thus  spotted.  Gerard,  we  see,  to- 
gether with  other  old  herbalists,  calls  it  "the  ginny 
hen  flower."  "  Of  the  faculties  of  these  pleasant 
flowres,"  he  tells  us,  "  there  is  nothing  set  down 
in  the  antient  or  later  writers."  This,  as  one  of 
his  main  objects  was  to  set  forth  "the  vertues" 
of  each  plant,  must  have  been  somewhat  painful 
to  him  to  admit,  but  he  cheers  up  bravely  and 
declares  the  flower  "greatly  esteemed  for  the 
beautifying  of  our  gardens,  and  the  bosoms  of 
the  beautiful."  Another  old  name  for  the  plant 
is  the  snake's-head,  the  chequered  bud,  before 

From  Asia  comes  the  F.  armena,  another  brilliantly  yellow 
blossom,  the  Old  World  and  the  New  vying  in  the  produc- 
tion of  interesting  forms.  There  are  many  other  species, 
one  well-known  one  being  the  Crown  Imperial,  so  common  in 
cottage  gardens.  All  are  bulbous  and  easy  of  cultivation. 


BALSAMS  281 

expansion,  being  in  form  and  marking   very   sug- 
gestive of  such  a  name. 

The  fritillary  grows  to  a  height  of  a  foot  or  so, 
the  stem  bearing  three  or  four  narrow  leaves  and 
generally  but  a  single  terminal  flower.  It  favours 
moist  meadows  and  pastures,  but  in  England  is 
perhaps  only  truly  wild  in  a  few  localities  in  the 
southern  and  eastern  counties.  It  is  a  very  near 
relative  to  the  wild  tulip. 

In  the  damper  portions  of  our  rock-garden  we 
grow  each  year,  very  successfully,  large  masses  of 
the  orange  balsam,  or  touch-me-not,  the  Impatiens 
fulva.  Though  purely  a  North  American  plant,  it 
has  somehow  established  itself  on  the  banks  of  the 
Wey,  and  thence  to  the  shores  of  the  Thames. 
Though  an  annual,  it  seeds  very  freely ;  we  do  not 
trouble  to  collect  the  seed,  being  well  content  that 
a  succession  of  self-sown  plants  is  assured  to  us. 
The  flowers  are  pendulous,  very  quaint  in  form,  of  a 
deep  orange  colour,  spotted  and  speckled  over  with  a 
yet  darker  reddish-brown.  An  allied  species,  the 
yellow  balsam — /.  noli-me-tangere — is  found  growing 
in  some  parts  of  England,  but  chiefly  in  the  northern 
counties.  On  being  touched  the  ripe  seed-vessels 
burst  suddenly  open  and  scatter  their  seeds  far  and 
wide.  The  action  is  bewilderingly  rapid  :  at  one 
moment  we  are  looking  at  a  compact  pod,  while  in 
the  next  its  segments  have  sprung  vigorously  wide 
open  and  rolled  themselves  up  into  spirals.  Hence 


282  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

the  plant  is  the  Impatiens,  the  touch-me-not,  the 
quick-in-hand. 

The  touch-me-not  has  as  its  companion  the  water- 
loving  forget-me-not,  that  decks  throughout  the 
summer  our  rock-garden  with  its  welcome  turquoise- 
blue  flowers.  The  older  herbalists  call  the  plant 
the  mouse-ear  scorpion-grass — a  much  more  prosaic 
name  than  the  one  it  now  bears.  Mouse-ear  was 
suggested  by  the  form  and  texture  of  the  little 
leaves,  while  the  second  half  of  the  name  was 
suggested  by  the  spiral  unwinding  of  the  inflores- 
cence, in  some  sort  suggestive  of  the  tail  of  a 
scorpion,  and  therefore  indicative  to  the  mediaeval 
herbalists  that  the  plant  was  efficacious  against 
injury  from  the  venom  of  this  uncanny  creature. 
Why  the  old  plant-gatherers  in  search  of  remedies 
were,  in  our  English  shires,  so  nervous  of  the 
scorpion  any  more  than,  say,  of  an  octopus  or  a 
rattle-snake,  passes  one's  understanding.  The 
present  plant  has  only  borne  its  present  name  for 
a  comparatively  short  period  :  the  mediaeval  forget- 
me-not  was  a  quite  different  thing — the  ground  pine  ; 
it  was  thus  termed  because  from  its  bitterness 
any  one  tasting  it  would  be  in  no  danger  of  not 
avoiding  it  in  future.  The  forget-me-not  was  at 
one  time  held  to  possess  magical  virtues,  and, 
judiciously  employed,  brought  abundant  good  for- 
tune to  those  who  knew  the  secret  of  the  talisman, 
and  various  legends  have  grown  around  the  pretty 


FLOWER  OF  REMEMBRANCE  283 

little  flower.  Henry  of  Lancaster  in  his  exile 
adopted  it,  with  the  motto,  "  Souveigne  vous  de 
moy,"  as  his  emblem,  and  it  is  a  legitimate  inference 
that  "  Hope's  gentle  gem,  the  sweet  forget-me-not," 
as  Coleridge  calls  it,  bore  its  share  in  the  subse- 
quent transition  from  the  fugitive  in  exile  to  the 
monarch  on  the  throne.  Another  plant  that  shared 
the  name  was  the  Germander  speedwell,  another 
charming  little  wildling  that  we  are  happy  enough 
to  induce  to  take  up  its  abode  with  us.  The  flowers 
of  this  latter  are  very  fugacious  ;  hence  it  was,  and 
is,  the  speedwell,  a  valedictory  name,  a  form  of 
farewell,  and  this  in  turn  easily  grew  into  the  appeal 
— forget-me-not.  It  is  a  plant  that  we  have  already 
referred  to  on  an  earlier  page. 

Another  plant  full  of  interesting  associations  is 
the  rosemary  :  "  the  flower  of  remembrance  and  of 
rejoicing."  It  was  held  to  strengthen  the  heart 
and  the  memory,  and  was  associated  alike  with  the 
happiest  and  the  saddest  days.  Herrick  writes 
of  it — 

"  It  matters  not  at  all, 
Be't  for  my  bridal  or  my  burial." 

It  was  associated,  too,  with  the  Christmas  festival, 
and  decked  the  home  at  that  period  of  rejoicing, 
and  thus  this  fragrant  evergreen  plant  became  to 
our  forefathers  a  symbol  of  the  deepest  feeling.  It 
will  be  recalled  by  the  lover  of  Shakespeare  how, 


284  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

when  Juliet  is  supposed  to  be  dead,  the  rosemary 
that  was  to  have  been  used  at  her  wedding  was  yet 
to  serve  to  deck  her  corpse ;  while  in  reading  in 
Dekker  of  a  bride  who  died  on  her  wedding-day, 
we  find  the  same  suggestion — "  Here  is  a  strange 
alteration  :  for  the  rosemary  that  was  washed  in 
sweet  water  to  get  out  the  bridal  is  now  wet  in 
tears  to  furnish  her  funeral."  An  old  ballad 
declares  that — 

u  Rosemary  is  for  remembrance 
Between  us  dale  and  night," 

and  we  find  the  idea  again  in  "  Hamlet  " — "  There's 
rosemary,  that's  for  remembrance,"  while  in  the 
1  'Winter's  Tale"  rosemary  and  rue  are  beautifully 
associated  together  in  the  lines — 

"  For  you  there's  rosemary  and  rue,  these  keep 
Seeming  and  savour  all  the  winter  long : 
Grace  and  remembrance  be  to  you  both." 

The  rosemary  is  really  a  plant  of  the  Mediterranean 
littoral,  but  has  for  centuries  been  cultivated  in  the 
British  herb-garden.  The  botanical  name  Ros- 
marinus  signifies  dew  of  the  sea,  the  greyish  appear- 
ance of  the  plant  and  its  favourite  locality  being 
herein  suggested.  The  leaves,  while  green  above 
are  whitish  beneath,  and  the  flowers  are  of  a  pale 
blue  colour,  variegated  with  purple  and  white,  and 
of  labiate  type. 


XLVII, 


HIERACIUM     INTYBACEUM     and     HESPERIS     MATRONALIS. 

To  face  fxif-T  2X4. 


RUE  AND  ITS  VIRTUES  285 

Those  to  whom  on  the  ground  of  old  associations 
the  rosemary  appeals  will  extend  a  like  sympathy 
with  the  rue,  its  personal  attractiveness  receives  our 
welcome,  the  pale  grey  of  its  foliage  no  less  than 
the  beauty  of  its  form  making  it  very  acceptable. 
This  again  is  a  plant  we  derive  from  Southern 
Europe,  but  from  its  medical  reputation  it  has  long 
been  one  of  the  plants  of  the  herb-garden.  It  was 
in  earlier  days  a  potent  element  in  the  exorcism 
of  evil  spirits,  hence  its  old  name — herb  of  grace.1 
It  was  held,  too,  of  great  value  in  strengthening  the 
sight.  Milton,  amongst  other  poets,  thus  refers  to 
its  medicinal  use — 

"Then  purged  with  euphrasie  and  rue 
His  visual  orbs,  for  he  had  much  to  see." 

The  list  of  its  virtues,  as  given  in  the  writings  of 
the  old  herbalists,  is  a  very  long  one.  "  The  seed 
thereof  taken  in  wine  is  an  antidote  against  all 
dangerous  medicines  and  deadly  poisons,  a  decoc- 
tion of  the  leaves  cureth  all  pains  and  torments." 
To  quote  at  greater  length  is  superfluous :  one 

1  "  There's  rue  for  you ;  and  here's  some  for  me  ; 
We  may  call  it  herb  grace  o'  Sundays." 

HAMLET. 

" 'Twas  a  good  lady  :  we  may  pick  a  thousand  sallets  ere  we 
light  on  such  another  herb.  Indeed,  sir,  she  was  the  sweet 
marjoram  of  the  sallet,  or,  rather,  the  herb  of  grace  "  ("  All's 
Well  that  Ends  Well"). 


286  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

short  extract  amply  suffices  to  explain  why  a 
plant  held  of  such  abundant  efficacy  should  find 
honoured  place  in  the  mediaeval  herb-garden,  and 
we  find  that  it  was  held  of  sovereign  virtue  even 
in  the  days  of  Pythagoras  and  Hippocrates. 

Yet  another  plant  of  interesting  associations  we 
give  ready  welcome  to — the  fennel.  This,  though 
one  nowadays  associates  it  with  the  kitchen  garden, 
is  a  true  British  wildling,  and  may  be  seen  flourish- 
ing vigorously  on  the  cliffs  by  the  seaside  in  many 
localities,  rising  to  a  height  of  some  four  feet  or  so, 
forming  a  dense  mass  of  very  finely  cut  foliage  that 
contrasts  admirably  with  everything  around  it  when 
we  transfer  the  plant  to  our  rock-garden.  The 
fennel  was  well  known  to  the  ancient  Greeks  and 
Romans  :  Hippocrates,  Dioscorides,  and  other  very 
venerable  practitioners  believed  greatly  in  it.  It 
has  been  largely  used  throughout  the  centuries  for 
the  relief  of  dimness  of  sight  and  of  blindness : 
according  to  Pliny,  even  the  serpents  had  found 
this  out  before  his  days,  and  when  they  cast  their 
skins  resorted  to  this  plant  to  restore  their  sight. 
There  was  an  ancient  distich  declaring — 

"  Foeniculum,  rosa,  verbena,  chelidonia,  ruta, 
Exhis,  fit  aqua,  quae  lumina  reddit  acute," 

which  appears  in  mediaeval  garb  as — 

UO£  Fennel,  Roses,  Veruain,  Rue,  and  Celandine, 
Is  made  a  water  good  to  cheere  the  sight  of  eine " — 


FENNEL  287 

and  it  would  be  a  very  easy  task  to  bring  forward 
any  number  of  prescriptions  in  which  various 
venerable  herbalists  introduce  one  or  other  of 
these  plants  into  the  service,  and  of  course  these 
mediaeval  authorities  in  their  wonderful  respect  for 
antiquity  carry  on  the  statement  they  found  in  the 
pages  of  Pliny,  and  declare  of  the  fennel  that — 

"  The  neddere  *  whaune  hurt  in  eye 
He  schall  it  chow  wonderly. 
And  leyn  it  to  hys  eye  kindlely 
Ye  jows  shall  sawg  and  hely  ye  eye 
Yat  beforn  was  sicke  and  feye." 

Maplet,  in  his  book  "A  Greene  Forest,"  pub- 
lished in  1567,  tells  us  that  "  Fenkell  is  an  Herbe 
of  the  gardaine  and  field,  common  to  them  both, 
but  not  so  common  as  effectuous.  The  Latin  name 
signifyeth  that  it  should  sharpen  of  the  eiesight,  and 
Dioscorides  also  sayth  that  the  iuyce  of  this  herbes 
roote  quickneth  the  eyes.  Plinie,  as  also  Isidore, 
saith  that  the  verie  Serpents  (if  nothing  else  did) 
were  sufficient  to  Noble  it  and  to  cause  this  kinde 
to  be  well  reckened  of,  for  that  though  the  onely 
taste  or  eating  therof  they  shake  off  many  sick- 
nesses, and  thereby  keepe  away  from  them  weake 
and  olde  age."  Buttes,  in  his  "  Table  Talke,"  pub- 
lished in  1599,  is  no  less  explicit.  We  learn  from 
him  that  "  Snakes  and  Serpentes  by  eating  Fcenill 

1  Adder. 


288  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

renew  their  age  and  repaire  their  decaied  sight  by 
rubbing  their  eyes  with  it.  Wherefore  it  is  vsed  of 
vs  to  the  like  purposes."  Presumably  our  old  author 
desired  to  suggest  that  by  its  use  the  serpents 
renewed  their  youth  rather  than  their  age ;  but  this 
after  all  is  a  detail.  He  goes  on  to  tell  of  a  rather 
serious  drawback  to  the  use  of  the  plant,  the  "bad 
propertie  in  the  seedes  to  brede  poysonous  wormes, 
whose  poyson  is  curable  by  no  Antidot." 

Boorde,  in  his  "  Dyetery  of  Helthe,"  published  in 
1542,  instructs  us  that  "the  rootes  of  Fennell  soden 
tender  and  made  in  a  succade  is  good  for  the  lunges 
and  for  the  syghte."  Another  old  writer,  Mark- 
ham,  prescribing  "for  fatnesse  about  the  hearte," 
advises  the  sufferer  to  "  take  the  juyce  of  Fennell 
mixt  with  hony  and  seeth  them  together  till  it  be 
hard  and  then  eate  it  evening  and  morning  and  it 
will  consume  the  fatnesse,"  but  its  main  function 
medicinally  we  find  to  be  the  preservation  or  re- 
storation of  the  sight.  Hence  Bate  gives  us  "  an 
excellent  Balme  or  water  of  grievous  sore  eyes,"  in 
which  this  is  a  leading  ingredient,  and  declares 
that  "this  is  approved,  and  more  precious  than 
gold."  Lupton,  in  like  manner,  has  "a  powder  to 
conserve  the  -syght,"  in  which  fennel,  eye-bright, 
and  celandine  are  very  important  elements.  This 
powder  has  "to  be  taken  continually  with  meate 
and  the  syght  will  be  restored  and  kept,  whose 
tryall  an  olde  man  dyd  proue,  which  vsed  spectacles 


RAGWORT  AND  HARE'S-EAR  289 

twelue  yeares,  so  that  without  them  he  could  not  see 
greate  letters  :  but  after  he  had  used  this  powder 
onely  forty  dayes  he  was  free,  in  so  much  that  all 
the  tyme  of  his  lyfe  he  dyd  see,  and  read  the  least 
letter  that  was."  It  would  be  easy  to  fill  page 
after  page  of  like  commendatory  matter  culled 
from  the  pages  of  these  old  writers. 

The  ragwort  is  a  very  attractive  member  of  our 
rock-garden,  coming  up  freely  amongst  the  fern 
fronds,  or  showing  grandly  up  against  a  dark  back- 
ground of  ivy.  The  plant  grows  some  three  or  four 
feet  in  height,  and  the  wiry  stems,  clothed  with 
deeply  cut  leaves,  are  crowned  by  large  heads  of 
yellow  composite  flowers.  These  shed  their  seeds 
very  freely,  and  very  amply  guarantee  a  continuous 
store  of  plants,  and  we  presently  find  it  necessary 
to  sternly  eradicate.  This  day  of  pitiless  decision 
should,  however,  be  postponed  as  long  as  possible, 
as  the  liberal  distribution  of  the  plant  in  goodly 
clumps  is  far  more  effective  than  the  dotting  here 
and  there  of  isolated  plants. 

We  have  on  Plate  XXXVIII.  two  plants  that 
have  a  quaint  attractiveness  that  secures  them  a 
place  in  our  regard.  The  larger  one  is  the 
hare's-ear.  It  is  one  of  our  very  numerous  um- 
belliferous plants,  and  may  be  found  occasionally 
in  cornfields,  and  especially  when  on  the  chalk.  It 
is  an  annual,  so  we  must  not  calmly  trust  to  its 
coming  up  year  after  year  without  any  trouble  on 

19 


290  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

our  part ;  perhaps  it  will,  and  perhaps  it  will  not. 
Its  older  English  name  of  thorow-wax  is  in  obvious 
allusion  to  the  way  in  which  the  stems  come  through 
the  leaves.  It  is  a  plant  that  has  somehow,  prob- 
ably with  corn,  come  to  us  from  Southern  Europe. 
The  other  plant  on  the  Plate  is  the  pearly  cudweed, 
one  of  our  rather  numerous  species  of  British  cud- 
weeds ;  our  English  representatives  of  the  "  ever- 
lastings "  that  are  imported  so  largely  into  England 
from  South  Africa  and  elsewhere.  Its  pearly- white, 
crisp-looking  flowers  and  very  grey  stems  give  it  a 
distinct  character  that  makes  it  a  very  welcome 
feature  in  one's  rock-garden,  from  its  contrast  in 
colour  with  its  surroundings. 

"  I  passed  by  his  garden,  and  saw  the  wild  briar, 
The  thorn,  and  the  thistle,  grow  higher  and  higher." 

These  lines  linger  in  our  memory  from  the  long, 
bygone  school-days,  but  who  it  was  who  was  pass- 
ing that  way,  or  whose  garden  he  passed,  we  fail  to 
remember.  They  somewhat  happily  describe  our 
own  garden,  and  the  poet-moralist,  we  remember 
from  the  general  drift  of  his  remarks,  desires  us  to 
be  shocked  at  such  a  state  of  things.  It  is,  we 
trust,  not  perversity  on  our  part,  but,  as  the  lines 
have  suddenly  come  back  to  our  memory,  we  are 
glad  to  be  reminded  by  them  that  a  picturesque 
trail  of  dog-rose,  a  white-thorn,  a  black-thorn,  a 
noble  well-grown  spear-plume,  or  a  grand  plant 


XLVIII. 


VIOLA     LUTEA    and    CAMPANULA     RHOMBOIDALIS. 


To  face  page  2$o. 


FRUIT-GROWING  291 

of  beautifully  variegated  milk-thistle  are  all  notable 
additions  to  one's  rock-garden.  We  yet  remember 
with  what  pleasure  we,  more  than  forty  years  ago, 
lighted  on  a  fine  milk-thistle  on  a  rubbish-heap,  at 
Harrow,  and  bore  it  off  in  triumph  to  our  domain, 
where  it  flourished  exceedingly,  to  our  great  con- 
tentment. Our  prototype  in  the  poem  appears  to 
have  been  equally  successful,  the  vigorous  growth 
of  his  plants  being  an  added  reproach  to  him  in  the 
eyes  of  his  critic. 

Reference  to  our  two  next  Plates,  XXXIX.  and 
LX.,  reminds  us  that  fruit,  no  less  than  blossom,  has 
an  interest,  and  in  these  two  cases  at  least  this 
interest  is  purely  an  aesthetic  one.  When  our  trails 
of  wild  strawberries,  or  noble  shoots  of  blackberries, 
in  due  course  become  fruit-laden,  one  is  not  averse 
to  combine  appreciation  of  form  and  colour  with 
appreciation  of  taste,  but  assuredly  one's  interest  in 
these  clusters  of  crabs  is  purely  on  the  former  ground, 
for  no  one,  except  an  omnivorous  schoolboy,  would 
venture  beyond  a  preliminary  nibble  at  fruit  so 
charming-looking  yet  so  acrid  and  austere  to  the 
taste.  In  like  manner  one  rests  entirely  content 
with  admiring  the  orange  clustering  fruits  of  the 
sea-buckthorn  without  any  desire  to  sample  them. 

The  wild  apple — Pyrus  Malus — may  not  uncom- 
monly be  found  in  our  woods,  and  when  we  see  it 
in  May  a  mass  of  pink  and  white  blossom,  few 
plants  surpass  it  in  beauty.  It  is  the  parent  of 


292  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

the  hundreds  of  varieties  of  edible  apples  that  are 
now  in  cultivation.  Writing  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth, 
Gerard  tells  us  of  a  valuable  ointment  made  in  his 
time  of  the  pulp  of  apples,  lard,  and  rose-water,  and 
which  was  called  pomatum,  from  pomum,  an  apple. 
It  was  used  to  beautify  the  skin,  but  this  was,  of 
course,  made  from  garden  apples.  Such  juice  as 
might  possibly  by  a  tremendous  effort  be  squeezed 
out  of  the  crab  would  tend  rather  to  excoriation 
we  imagine.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  source  from  whence 
verjuice  is  derived. 

The  sea-buckthorn,  or  sallow-thorn — Hippophcz 
rhamnoides — should  be,  as  its  name  suggests,  a 
dweller  by  the  margin  of  the  sea,  and  so  it  ordinarily 
is.  It  nevertheless  thrives  in  our  neighbourhood, 
a  good  fifty  miles  from  salt  water.  It  is  one  of 
our  scarcer  plants,  and  is  chiefly  found  in  various 
localities  in  the  south  and  east  of  England  amidst 
the  sand-dunes  or  cliffs  of  the  littoral.  The  plant 
from  which  our  illustration  is  taken  came  to  us  from 
a  friend  at  Scarborough.  The  leaves  of  the  sea- 
buckthorn  are  of  a  dull  green  above,  and  very 
greyish  below ;  from  the  mode  of  growth  of  the 
plant  these  lower  surfaces  are  much  in  evidence, 
and  this  silvery  sheen  becomes  a  conspicuous 
feature.  The  flowers  are  very  minute,  but  are 
succeeded  by  the  richly  coloured  berries  that  we 
have  preferred  to  illustrate. 

Another  plant  that  seems  to  have  a  special  love 


BUCKS-HORN  PLANTAIN  293 

for  the  neighbourhood  of  the  sea,  though  it  is  by 
no  means  confined  to  this,  is  the  buck's-horn 
plantain — Plantago  Coronopus — the  plant  figured  on 
Plate  XLII.  This,  unlike  the  sea-buckthorn,  is 
common  enough,  and  thrives  well  on  barren,  sterile 
ground.  Inconspicuous  as  it  is,  it  has  a  certain 
quaint  charm  and  is  by  no  means  grudged 
the  very  limited  accommodation  that  it  asks 
at  our  hands.  This  plant  is  the  Cornu  cervinum 
of  the  mediaeval  writers.  "It  riseth  up  at  the 
first  with  small,  narrow,  long,  hairy,  darke 
green  leaves  like  -grasse,  without  any  division  or 
gash  in  them,  but  those  that  follow  are  gashed 
in  on  both  sides  of  the  leaves,  into  three  or  four 
gashes,  and  pointed  at  the  ends,  resembling  the 
knagges  of  a  Buckes  home,  whereof  it  tooke  the 
name,  and  being  well  grown  lye  round  about  the 
roote,  in  order  one  by  another,  thereby  resembling 
the  forme  of  a  starre,  and  therefore  called  Herbe 
Stella  :  from  any  which  rise  divers  hairy  stalkes 
about  an  handbreath  high,  bearing  each  one  a  small 
long  spiky  head,  very  like  unto  those  of  the  common 
Plaintaine,  having  such  like  bloomings  and  seede 
after  them.  They  flower  and  seede  in  May,  June 
and  July,  and  their  greene  leaves  abide  fresh  in  a 
manner  all  the  Winter.  Buckshorne  Plantane  boyled 
in  wine  and  drunke,  is  an  excellent  remedy  for  the 
biting  of  a  Viper  or  Adder  (for  I  hold  an  English 
Adder  to  be  the  true  Viper,  both  by  the  forme 


294  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

thereof  and  the  teeth  it  hath  with  poison  in  the 
gummes,  being  deadly  and  dangerous  upon  the 
biting,  and  by  the  breeding,  which  is  of  quicke 
young  ones,  and  not  by  egges  as  snakes  are)  by 
laying  some  of  the  herbe  to  the  wound.  It  hath 
beene  helde  profitable  for  agues,  to  weaken  their 
fits,  and  to  take  them  away,  to  hang  the  rootes  with 
the  rest  of  the  herbe  about  the  necke,  as  nine  to 
men,  and  seven  to  women  and  children,  but  this, 
as  many  other,  are  idle  amulets  of  no  worth  or 
value  :  yet  since  it  hath  beene  reported  unto  me 
for  a  certaintie  that  the  leaves  of  Buckshorne 
Plantane  laid  to  their  sides  that  have  an  ague,  will 
suddenly  ease  the  fit,  as  if  it  had  beene  done  by 
witcherie :  the  leaves  and  rootes  also  beaten  with 
some  bay  salt,  and  applyed  to  the  wrestes  worketh 
the  same  effects,  which  holde  to  be  more  reasonable 
and  proper."  l 

The  subject  of  Plate  XLV. — Echmacea purpurea 
— we  have  not  ourselves  cultivated,  but  found  it  in 
the  rock-garden  of  a  neighbour.  The  plant  stands 
some  three  to  four  feet  high  and  is  splendidly 
effective  when  seen  as  a  backyard  plant  against  a 
screen  of  ivy  or  other  dark  mass.  The  lilac  flower 
on  the  next  Plate,  XL VI.,  has  a  special  delicacy  that 
commends  itself  at  once  to  us.  It  is  the  Globularia 
cordifolia :  a  plant  found  at  considerable  elevation 
amidst  the  rock  debris  of  the  Alps,  and  in  stony 
1  Parkinson. 


TWO   SENECIOS  295 

calcareous  pasturage.  It  grows,  as  so  many  Alpine 
plants  do,  in  tufts,  and  throwing  up  numerous 
globose  heads  of  blossom,  delicate  alike  in  form 
and  in  colour.  The  leaves  are  rather  curious  in 
form,  being  in  general  outline  battledore-shaped, 
but  terminating  in  three  minute  teeth. 

We  have  already  commended  our  common  rag- 
wort as  a  rock-garden  acquisition,  and  we  give  on 
Plates  XLIX.  and  L.  two  Continental  species  of 
the  same  genus,  the  Senecio  Doronicum,  and  the 
S.  aurantiacus.  Their  horticultural  value  speaks 
for  itself.  Almost  all  the  composites,  from  the  most 
gigantic  sunflowers  to  the  lowliest  of  daisies,  'are 
effective,  and  these  certainly  are  of  the  number. 

While  we  can  well  imagine  that  some  of  our 
readers  may  feel  surprise  at  some  of  the  lowly 
herbs — "  really  you  know,  mere  weeds  !  " — we  com- 
mend to  their  regard,  they  may  be  equally  prepared 
to  fall  foul  of  us  for  our  grievous  omissions.  Such 
matters  must  necessarily  be,  to  a  great  extent,  a 
matter  of  personal  feeling,  but  to  the  latter  charge, 
the  leaving  out  of  desirable  things,  we  can  plead 
that  space  in  one's  garden  and  in  one's  book  are 
alike  limited.  It  would  be  very  natural  that  the 
plant-lover  who  revels  in  some  gorgeous  blossom, 
some  lowly  woodland  flower,  that  to  him  appears 
incomparable  should  resent  its  absolute  exclusion 
from  our  pages,  but  our  ambition  is  by  no  means  to 
make  an  exhaustive  catalogue.  The  whole  point  of 


296  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

our  endeavour  is  that  the  plants  we  introduce  should 
carry  with  them  something  of  pleasant  association, 
recalling  happy  journeyings  at  home  or  abroad,  or 
reminiscent  of  their  donors,  friends  who  yet  remain 
to  us,  or  who,  in  cases  not  a  few,  have  passed  away, 
the  fragile  flowers  yet  springing  up  with  each 
returning  Spring  and  ever  recalling  to  us  our  loss 
of  the  intimacy  that,  based  on  community  of  tastes, 
was  so  delightful. 

A  rock-garden,  fernless,  is  unthinkable.  In 
addition  to  the  inherent  beauty,  a  great  attraction 
in  ferns  is  that  they  will  flourish  vigorously  where 
most  other  plants  would  not  prosper  at  all,  and  thus 
spots  that  would  be  useless  and  bare  become  as 
full  of  interest  as  the  rest  of  our  garden.  A 
mixture  of  sand,  peat  or  leaf  mould,  and  loam  in 
almost  equal  proportions,  suits  most  of  them  to 
admiration,  and  when  the  roots  are  once  established 
they  need  little  or  no  further  attention,  since  they 
will  continue  growing  vigorously  year  after  year, 
asking  at  most  an  occasional  watering  during  a  dry 
season.  One  of  the  errors  that  one  has  to  avoid 
in  planting  is  the  not  allowing  sufficient  room  for 
subsequent  expansion  of  the  individual  plants.  To 
avoid  a  temporarily  empty  look  and  to  gain  a  rich 
effect  too  speedily  there  is  a  great  temptation  to 
plant  our  ferns  too  closely  together,  and  then  in  but 
a  short  time  we  find  them  hopelessly  hindering  each 
other's  full  development.  To  see  a  fern  in  its  real 


SENECIO    DORONICUM    and    SAXIFRAGA    AIZOIDES. 
To  face  page  296. 


FEEN  CULTURE  297 

beauty  it  must  have  full  room  to  expand  untouched 
by  any  other  plant,  the  graceful  radiation  of  the 
fronds  forming  its  crowning  beauty.  One  of  our 
Osmunda  ferns  measured  across  from  tip  to  tip 
fifty-six  inches,  so  that  this  one  fern,  growing 
equally  in  all  directions,  claims  a  circle  of  ground 
of  fourteen  feet  circumference,  but  it  is  abundantly 
worth  it. 

While  most  ferns  fail  to  thrive  if  exposed  to 
strong  sunshine,  it  is  important  that  they  should 
receive  due  share  of  light  and  air.  Ferns,  as  a 
whole,  are  in  a  special  degree  shade-  and  moisture- 
loving,  yet  the  amount  of  each  varies  so  in  different 
species  that  it  is  useless  to  attempt  to  give  any 
one  cultural  formula.  They  are  not  lovers  of  cold 
draughts,  and  must  be  sheltered  from  strong  wind. 

Ferns  should  be  removed  during  the  autumn  and 
winter,  in  the  interval  between  the  dying  down  of 
the  old  fronds  and  the  unrolling  of  the  new.  While 
some  of  our  species  are  evergreen  others  are 
deciduous ;  and  though  these  latter  are  lost  to  us 
for  awhile,  their  reappearance  as  they  gradually 
unfold  is  one  of  the  most  welcome  indications  that 
the  Spring  has  at  last  come,  that  Nature  is 
awakening. 

The  brake,  or  bracken,  the  commonest  of  all  our 
ferns,  that  clothes  our  commons  and  open  wood- 
lands lavishly  with  its  graceful  leafage,  is  the  only 
one  that  has  any  economic  value.  We  read  in 


298  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

Tusser's  quaint  old  book,  "The  Fiue  Hundred 
Pointes  of  Good  Husbandrie,"  how  the  farmer  is 
admonished  to — 

"Get  home  with  the  brake, 
To  brue  with  and  bake, 
To  cover  the  shed, 
Drie  over  the  hed," 

and  we  still  see  its  value  appreciated  by  the 
cottager  and  farmer  of  to-day.  It  makes  a  fierce 
fire  for  the  bakehouse,  an  excellent  covering  for  the 
hovel,  a  very  useful  litter  in  the  cowshed,  and  a 
thick  layer  of  it  is  often  the  foundation  on  which 
the  hayrick  or  cornstack  is  reared.  The  brake 
grows  to  a  very  considerable  height,  and  when  it 
has  once  established  itself  may,  in  the  rock-garden, 
grow  a  little  exacting.  We  only  arrive  at  its 
possession  as  a  reward  of  our  perseverance,  and 
after  some  measure  of  disappointment.  Such,  at 
least,  is  our  personal  experience,  and  it  does  not 
stand  alone.  Unless,  when  we  are  seeking  to 
transfer  it  from  the  woodland  to  our  garden,  we 
dig  up  a  very  goodly  portion  of  its  deeply  rooting 
creeping  stem  our  labour  is  in  vain.  It  is  very 
easy  to  get  up  a  small  piece  and  march  off  with 
it  happily  enough,  but  the  result  is  only  dis- 
appointment. 

There  is  an  old  belief  that  the  bracken  produces 
a  small  blue  bell-flower  at  midnight  on  September 
29th,  the  great  Feast  of  St.  Michael,  but,  as  this 


RAIN-BRINGING  299 

disappears  at  earliest  dawn  there  is  no  chance 
for  most  people  to  see  if  this  be  so  or  not.  If 
only  one  could  be  fortunate  to  find  one  of  these 
and  gather  it  we  are  assured  that  it  would  point 
to  hidden  treasure  and  guide  us  to  wealth  untold. 
Another  old  fancy  was  that  burning  of  the  bracken 
brought  on  heavy  rain.  When  Charles  I.  would 
journey  into  Staffordshire  he  caused  a  letter  to  be 
written  in  advance  to  the  sheriff  of  the  county 
strictly  forbidding  that  during  his  sojourn  therein 
any  fern  should  be  burnt,  while  in  the  West  Country 
if  one  would  be  free  from  toothache  a  whole  year — 
a  distinctly  desirable  thing — they  must  bite  off  close 
to  the  ground  the  first  fern  frond  that  a  Spring 
search  reveals  to  them. 

The  best  all-round  fern  for  the  rock-garden  is, 
we  think,  the  common  male  fern,  so  called  popu- 
larly to  distinguish  it  from  the  yet  more  graceful 
lady  fern.  The  Greeks  and  Romans  believed  that 
fern  produced  no  seed  ;  other  plants  they  saw 
flowered  and  fruited,  but  the  reproduction  of  the 
ferns  by  means  of  its  spores  was  a  mystery  to 
them.  Later  on  it  was  held  that  ferns  must  surely 
have  seed  of  some  kind,  but  that  it  was  invisible  ; 
so  our  ancestors  reasoned  out  the  fantastic  idea 
that  if  one  could  but  gather  this  seed  they,  too, 
would  become  possessed  of  the  power  to  become 
invisible.  Butler,  in  one  of  his  satires,  compares  a 
parasite  of  the  court  to  "  fern,  that  vile  un-useful 


BOO  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

weed,"  and  reflects  the  popular  belief  by  adding, 
"that  springs  equivocally  without  seed."  Shake- 
speare, in  his  "  Henry  IV.,"  makes  Gadshill  exclaim, 
"We  have  the  receipt  of  fern-seed;  we  walk  in- 
visible ! " r  Others  declared  that  the  fern  brought 
forth  seed  on  Midsummer  Eve,  and  then  only. 
Hence,  in  Browne's  "  Pastorals  "  (1614)  we  read  of 
"the  wondrous  one-night-seeding  Feme.  Those 
who  would  gather  fern-seed  had  need  possess  not 
only  much  faith,  for  that  is  essential,  but  also  not 
a  little  patience.  The  fern  resolutely  declined  to 
yield  to  any  violence,  no  shaking  or  squeezing 
was  permissible,  but  if  the  would-be  possessor  liked 
at  the  solemn  hour  of  midnight  to  kneel  before 
the  plant  and  hold  out  a  white  basin,  perhaps  the 
fern  might  of  its  own  free-will  let  fall  into  it 
some  of  this  precious  seed.  One  is  scarcely  sur- 
prised to  find  that  those  thus  seeking  the  gift  of 
invisibility  were  strongly  suspected  of  malpractices 
and  witchcraft  and  laid  themselves  open  to  the  fate 
of  those  who  were  held  to  be  professors  of  the 
Black  Art.  Andrew  Marvell  tells  us — 

a  Of  the  witch  that  midnight  wakes 
For  the  fern,  whose  magic  weed 
In  one  moment  casts  the  seed, 
And  invisible  her  makes." 


1  "I  had 

No  medicine,  Sir,  to  go  invisible, 
No  fern  seed  in  my  pocket." 

BEN  JONSON. 


APPRECIATION  OF  FERNS  301 

The  power  of  travelling  unseen  might  be  used  at 
times  for  some  beneficent  purpose,  as  when  Santa 
Claus  sallies  forth  on  his  kindly  Christmas  mission  ; 
but  more  ordinarily  the  man  who  desired  the  gift  of 
invisibility  would  be  somewhat  closely  questioned 
as  to  what  mischief  to  his  neighbours  he  was 
planning,  and  his  sudden  uncanny  disappearance 
would  give  rise  to  some  little  uneasiness  in  his 
circle. 

The  lady  fern  is  no  less  welcome  in  our  rock- 
garden,  though  we  find,  our  subsoil  being  sand, 
that  its  more  delicate  character  than  that  of  the 
male  fern  causes  it  to  brown  off  earlier  in  the 
season  than  we  quite  approve.  It  is  very  common 
and  very  charming.  It  is  singular  that  the  study 
and  appreciation  of  ferns  is  of  very  recent  growth. 
One  finds  in  Cowper,  Shenstone,  and  some  others 
of  our  native  poets  little  or  no  reference  to  them, 
and  a  very  notable  illustration  of  this  neglect  is 
seen  in  the  writings  of  Gilpin,  a  life-long  dweller  in 
that  paradise  of  ferns,  the  New  Forest,  who  did 
much  to  foster  a  taste  for  Nature,  and  who  yet 
regards  the  ferns  as  scarcely  worthy  of  notice,  and, 
indeed,  classes  them  with  "  thorns  and  briers  and 
other  hedge  trumpery."  Scott  and  the  Lake  poets, 
however,  do  them  justice.  The  former,  with 
admirable  truth  to  Nature,  refers  to  the  bracken  on 
the  great  hill  slopes,  and  alludes  in  "Waverley" 
to— 


302  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

"Where  the  copsewood  is  the  greenest, 
Where  the  fountain  glistens  sheenest, 
Where  the  morning  dew  lies  longest," 

as  that  happy  blending  of  shade  and  moisture  where 
ferns  would  flourish  luxuriantly,  adding — 

"  There  the  lady  fern  grows  strongest." 

In  such  a  situation  its  somewhat  pale  green  fronds, 
so  rich  and  delicate  in  form,  may  grow  three  feet 
high  or  more.  These  fronds  form  a  rather  dense 
mass  as  a  whole,  and  droop  very  gracefully  at  their 
extremities.  It  is  much  more  common  in  Ireland 
than  in  England,  the  greater  humidity  of  the  climate 
favouring  it. 

We  read  in  the  "Compleat  Herbal "  of  Pechey, 
a  book  published  in  1694,  that  "  of  the  ashes  of  the 
Female  Fern  are  made  with  Water,  Balls,  and 
being  dried  in  the  Sun,  they  wash  their  Clothes 
with  them  insted  of  Soap.  But  before  they  use 
them  they  put  them  in  a  light  Fire  till  they  are  red 
hot  and  then  they  will  easily  powder.  This  fern  is 
used  in  Sussex  to  burn  Lime,  for  the  Flame  of  it  is 
very  violent,  and  therefore  very  fit  for  that  Use. 
The  Juice  of  the  Root  is  good  for  Burns.  Some 
poor  people  have  been  forc'd  in  a  great  Scarcity  of 
Corn  to  make  Bread  of  this  Root,"  but  in  our 
rock-garden  it  lives  a  very  happy,  peaceful  life, 
appreciated  for  its  beauty  alone ;  we  neither  wash 


ACHILLEA    TOMENTOSA    and    SENECIO    AURANTIACUS. 
To  face  Page  JO2. 


HART'S-TONGUE  FERN  303 

with  it  nor  heat  our  oven  with  it,  nor  have  we  yet, 
as  a  last  resource,  made  a  meal  off  it. 

The  temptation  in  dry  weather  to  turn  hose  or 
syringe  on  one's  ferns  is  one  to  be  rather  fought 
down  than  encouraged.  It  is  often  of  doubtful 
benefit,  and  may  possibly  at  times  be  actually 
injurious.  The  soil  in  which  a  fern  is  growing 
must  never  be  allowed  to  become  parched,  but  any 
water  applied  should  go  rather  direct  to  the  root 
crowns  than  flung  against  the  fronds.  The  force 
with  which  the  water  strikes  the  leaves  is  to  their 
detriment,  and  it  is  often  much  too  cold.  If  Nature 
appears  a  little  remiss  in  sending  refreshing,  cleans- 
ing showers,  a  little  sprinkling  of  the  fronds  may  be 
indulged  in. 

In  the  damper  and  shadier  recesses  our  hart's- 
tongues  are  well  in  evidence,  their  glossy  evergreen 
fronds  being  always  a  welcome  adornment.  While 
this  fern  delights  in  growing  in  damp  situations — 
one  often  sees  it,  for  instance,  fringing  the  sides  of 
the  cottager's  well— it  prospers  very  fairly  on  old 
walls,  while  in  its  normal  state  it  is  of  extreme 
simplicity  of  form,  and  therefore  a  very  welcome 
contrast  to  other  species ;  yet  there  is  no  fern 
more  subject  to  variation  ;  and  if  one  cares  to  visit 
the  nursery  of  any  great  fern-grower  he  will  be 
prepared  to  submit  to  us  more  than  a  hundred 
recognised  and  named  variations  from  type.  It 
thrives  best  in  a  rather  heavy  loam,  and  its 


304  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

fronds  may  be  anything  in  length  from  an  inch 
or  two  to  well  over  two  feet. 

Tusser,  in  his  quaint  old  "Husbandrie,"  gives  a 
list  of  "  Necessarie  herbes  to  growe  in  the  garden 
for  Physick,"  and  amongst  them  we  find  the 
"Harts  tong,"1  our  forefathers  including  it  amongst 
the  multitudinous  simples  they  cultivated  in  their 
herb-gardens.  "  Harts  tongue,"  Lovell  tells  us  in 
his  "Compleat  Herball,"  published  in  1665,  "is  of 
a  drying  faculty,  drunk  in  wine  it  healeth  the  biting 
of  serpents.  The  distilled  water  thereof  healeth 
the  passions  of  the  heart,  and  stayeth  the  falling 
of  the  palate.  It  healeth  stoppings  of  melancholy 
and  splenetick  evills,  therefore  it  is  excellent  for 
such  as  are  liver-grown."  Though  this  be  but  the 
statement  of  one  author,  all  these  old  writers 
borrowed  from  each  other  shamelessly,  so  that  the 
opinion  of  any  one  of  them  is  of  equal  value  with 
quotations  from  a  dozen  or  a  score. 

The  royal  fern — the  Osmunda  regalis — is  the 
grandest  of  all  our  native  species,  thriving  on 
damp,  boggy  ground,  and  distributed  more  or  less 
throughout  the  kingdom.  Incidentally  we  may 
point  out  that  when  we  claim  any  plant  as  British, 
this  by  no  means  gives  us  a  monopoly  of  it.  In 
the  present  case,  for  instance,  the  royal  fern 
flourishes  not  in  England  alone,  but  as  freely  in 

1  Others  were  the  "  Betanie,   Cinqfile,  Gromel,  Licoras, 
Rew,  Charuiel,  Poppie,  Saxefrage,"  &c. 


THE  ROYAL  FEEN  305 

the  bog-lands  and  swamps  throughout  Europe, 
away  in  India  and  Madagascar,  Canada  and  Brazil, 
Natal  and  Mexico,  and  elsewhere  in  Asia,  Africa, 
and  America.  It  gives,  we  take  it,  an  added 
interest  to  a  plant  to  realise  how  widely  it  is 
distributed,  that  the  flower  that  springs  up  unin- 
vited in  our  garden  is  dotted  as  freely  over  Cape 
Colony  or  Japan.  There  are  not  a  few  plants  that 
are  practically  cosmopolitan,  either  by  nature  or  by 
the  voluntary  or  involuntary  agency  of  man. 

The  royal  fern  is  ordinarily  found  near  sea-level,1 
or  at  all  events  not  more  than  some  three  hundred 
feet  above  this.  Under  auspicious  circumstances 
it  may  attain  to  a  height  of  some  six  or  seven  feet, 
or,  exceptionally,  even  more.  It  is  easy  of  culture 
if  only  we  do  not  fail  to  remember  that  it  must 
have  abundance  of  moisture.  Our  finest  plant  has 
been  flourishing  with  us  for  over  thirty  years,  and 
seems  quite  willing  to  go  on  indefinitely.  It  came 
to  us  originally  from  Surrey,  from  the  banks  of  the 
Wey,  then  went  to  Wiltshire,  and  prospered  by  the 
banks  of  the  Kennett,  undergoing  two  moves  there 
on  changes  of  home,  when  another  change  brought 
it  back  to  Surrey,  where  it  has  since  undergone  yet 
another  shift.  It  has  therefore  been  dug  up  four 

1  So  far  south  as  Cornwall  right  away  to  Arran  it  may 
often  be  found  amongst  the  rocky  debris  on  the  beach,  on 
the  precipitous  faces  of  the  sea-cliffs,  or  luxuriating  in  caves 
accessible  to  the  tides. 

20 


306  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

times  already,  but  has  not  in  the  least  resented  it, 
possibly,  indeed,  would  feel  flattered  if  it  realised 
the  position,  that  whatever  changes  overtook  us 
we  could  bear  them  with  equanimity  if  only  they 
did  not  necessitate  parting  with  our  royal  guest. 
According  to  Pechey,  "  the  Root  does  good  in  the 
Cholick  and  Diseases  of  the  Spleen.  It  is  very 
effectual  for  Bruises  and  those  that  are  wounded, 
it  being  boyled  in  some  Liquor.  Tis  excellent  in 
the  Rickets,  a  Conserve  being  made  of  the  tender 
Buds  of  it,  and  of  Asparagus,  Spleenwort,  and 
Harts  tongue." 

The  little  adder's-tongue  is  abundant  in  many 
parts  of  England,  and  is  readily  distinguished  from 
any  other  of  our  ferns — an  individuality  that  gives  it 
added  interest  and  full  welcome  to  the  fernery.  It 
should  be  sought  in  moist,  loamy  meadows,  where 
it  is  sometimes  so  plentiful  as  to  greatly  injure  the 
pasturage.  It  was  long  believed  to  not  only  destroy 
the  grass,  but  to  be  equally  fatal  to  cattle  that 
might  feed  on  it.  Lupton,  writing  in  1595,  has 
a  quaint  use  for  it  that  must  have  been  a  little 
startling  in  its  application,  one  would  imagine, 
happy  faith,  blank  dismay,  and  joyful  content  fol- 
lowing each  other  in  rapid  succession.  He  advises 
us  that  "  Adder's  tongue,  wrapt  in  Virgin  Waxe, 
and  put  into  the  lefte  eare  of  any  Horse  makes  the 
Horse  to  fall  downe  to  the  grounde  as  though  he 
were  deade,  and  when  it  is  taken  out  of  his  eare  it 


COMMON  POLYPODY  307 

doeth  not  onely  waken  him  and  reyse  him,  but 
also  it  makes  him  more  lyuely  and  quicke" — an 
altogether  superior  animal. 

We  gladly  give  welcome  to  the  common  poly- 
pody, for,  abundant  as  it  is  almost  everywhere,  it  is 
a  picturesque  thing  to  grow.  It  is  one  of  the  first 
ferns  to  expand  in  the  Spring.  The  fronds  are  from 
a  few  inches  to  a  foot  or  more  in  height,  and  beauti- 
fully marked  on  their  lower  surfaces  with  the  bright 
orange  masses  of  fructification.  We  may  often  see 
this  fern  in  large  clumps,  high  in  air,  growing  on 
the  upper  sides  of  the  wide-spreading,  moss-covered 
limbs  of  some  old  oak ;  but  we  must  not  therefore, 
if  we  are  novices  at  this  sort  of  thing,  conclude  that 
we  have  come  across  the  oak  fern,  the  species 
popularly  so  named  being  a  little  thing  that  grows 
amidst  the  grass  and  derives  its  name  because  in 
its  general  profile  it  suggests  a  spreading  oak-tree. 
Amongst  country  folk  the  polypody  had  been  held 
a  cure  for  whooping  cough,  its  fronds  being  dried 
and  then  made  into  a  sort  of  tea.  It  must  be 
observed,  however,  that  it  is  absolutely  no  use  to 
gather  the  raw  material  off  an  old  wall  or  fence,  or 
off  the  roots  of  some  hedgerow  shrub  ;  any  polypody 
to  be  thus  employed  must  have  been  gathered  off 
an  oak-tree ;  all  others,  whatever  may  be  the  case 
with  these,  are  without  healing  virtue.  One  may 
as  well  go  to  a  doctor  at  once. 

The  hard  fern  is  another  interesting  species  that 


308  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

one  gladly  welcomes.  In  colour  it  is  of  a  dark  green 
and  the  fronds  are  very  glossy.  It  bears  two 
entirely  different  types  of  frond,  the  barren  and  the 
fertile,  and  what  may  be  held  missing  in  feathery 
grace  is  entirely  made  up  to  us  in  its  simplicity  of 
form,  and  what  we  may  almost  call  strength  of 
character.  In  circumstances  propitious  to  its  welfare 
these  fronds  may  be  over  two  feet  in  length,  these 
favouring  conditions  being  abundant  moisture  and 
considerable  shade.  We  have  ordinarily  found  it 
thriving  best  in  stiff  clay,  but  it  is  by  no  means 
confined  to  this.  The  tall  spore-bearers,  rising  from 
the  centre  of  the  plant,  when  they  have  fulfilled  their 
mission,  wither  away,  but  the  barren  fronds  are  ever- 
green, and  form  striking  rosettes  of  foliage. 

The  scale  fern  is  a  quaint  little  species.  Its 
fronds  are  rarely  more  than  some  six  inches  long, 
but  are  striking  from  the  marked  contrast  in  appear- 
ance of  their  upper  and  lower  surfaces ;  the  former 
soft  and  velvet-like  to  the  touch,  and  of  a  bluish- 
green,  while  the  latter  is  densely  covered  with 
reddish-brown  scales  that  give  it  an  almost  shaggy 
appearance.  It  may  be  found  growing  on  rock,  but 
seems  to  have  a  special  fondness  for  old  walls. 
Vitruvius  tells  us  that  in  the  Isle  of  Crete,  near 
a  certain  river,  the  flocks  and  herds  were  found 
without  spleens  because  they  browsed  on  this  herb, 
while  those  on  the  opposite  bank  were  unscathed, 
since  there  was  there  no  scale  fern  to  work  them 


FERN  POSSIBILITIES  309 

woe.  An  Englishman,  Coles,  declares  that  "if  the 
asse  be  oppressed  with  melancholic  he  eates  of  this 
herbe,  and  so  eases  himself  of  the  swelling  of  the 
spleene,"  and  this  belief  in  the  plant's  special  efficacy 
for  the  relief  of  the  splenetic,  asinine  or  human, 
was  generally  held  from  very  early  days.  It  was 
also  applied  outwardly  to  wounds,  its  rough  scaly 
under  side  being  applied  to  staunch  and  dry  up 
the  cut  or  bruise.  The  little  wall-rue  spleenwort 
is  very  generally  distributed  and  attaches  itself  very 
kindly  to  one's  rock-work.  When  found  at  all  it 
is  generally  in  profusion,  tufts  of  it  sprouting  out 
from  every  interstice  of  the  rock  or  from  all  the 
mortar  joints  of  some  old  wall,  so  that  the  whole 
becomes  verdant. 

Other  species  that  have  found  a  welcome  home 
with  us  are  the  oak  fern,  the  broad  shield  fern  and 
its  near  relative  the  prickly  shield  fern,  the  black 
spleenwort  and  wall-rue  ;  but  this  bare  enumeration 
is  probably  by  no  means  exhaustive.  To  dwell  at 
length  upon  all  the  pleasant  possibilities  in  fern 
culture  is  needless — needless  even  to  enumerate  the 
species  available  to  us.  It  suffices  to  say  that 
amidst  the  many  and  very  varied  species  that  we 
may  encounter  in  our  journeyings  there  is  not  one 
that  will  not  be  a  source  of  pleasure,  and  which  will 
not  amply  repay  any  little  trouble  that  its  transfer  to 
our  domain  may  temporarily  give  us. 

Amongst    unbidden   yet   welcome   guests   many 


310  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

species  of  fungoid  growth  appear  in  our  rock- 
garden.  Though  we  may  find  various  species  of 
fungi  all  through  the  Summer,  they  are  especially 
characteristic  of  Autumn,  .and  no  one  who  has 
allowed  indifference  or  prejudice  to  blind  his  eyes 
can  have  any  notion  of  the  variety  and  beauty  of 
the  forms  they  assume  :  some  are  purely  white,  and 
like  branching  coral ;  others  have  their  branches 
an  intense  orange-yellow  ;  others  again  have  their 
disks  as  strong  a  scarlet  as  a  guardsman's  tunic ; 
while  the  great  majority  are  of  a  more  subdued 
colour  and  of  every  possible  tint  of  yellow,  russet, 
purple,  and  brown,  to  black.  Far  more  of  these 
than  is  at  all  generally  realised  have  edible  value, 
and  tons  of  despised  "  toadstools"  that  would  supply 
wholesome  food,  perish  unregarded  each  recurring 
Autumn.  The  white  coral-like  clavaria,  for  instance, 
that  we  have  referred  to,  is  not  "  a  thing  of  beauty  " 
alone,  but  is,  when  stewed  with  a  little  ham  and 
parsley,  and  seasoned  with  a  touch  of  pepper  and 
salt,  as  dainty  a  dish  as  need  be  set  before  the  most 
exacting  of  gourmands.  Fungi  vary  in  form  and  in 
size  as  much  as  in  colour,  and  may  be  looked  for  in 
almost  every  possible  position — some  nestling  among 
the  long  grass  and  dying  bracken,  some  standing 
boldly  erect  on  the  open  ground,  others  springing 
from  decayed  wood,  and  others  again  on  lofty  tree- 
trunks.  Almost  all  quickly  perish  and  lose  their 
beauty  after  gathering,  and  though  there  is  no  more 


CHARM  OF  THE  COUNTRY  311 

charming  ornament  in  a  country  house  than  a  large 
plate  laden  with  various  kinds  embedded  in  moss, 
the  charm  is  a  very  short-lived  one. 

The  ever-shortening  days  of  the  Autumn  remind 
us  distinctly  that  the  days  of  Summer  are  being 
rapidly  left  behind  us,  and  that  Winter  is  coming 
on  apace.  The  boisterous  vigour  of  March  ;  April 
smiling  through  its  tears  ;  May  so  full  of  promise  ; 
the  glorious  months  of  June,  July,  and  August ;  the 
fruitful  September — have  all  received  at  many  hands 
due  recognition  of  their  charms,  but  as  to  the  other 
months  the  general  feeling  appears  to  be  that  they 
are  periods  to  be  lived  through  as  endurably  as 
may  be,  but  that  toleration  is  as  much  as  they  may 
hope  for ;  the  lyre  of  the  poet  is  unstrung,  and  as 
effectually  packed  away  till  the  longer  days  as  the 
cricket  bats  and  lawn  tennis  paraphernalia. 

This  lack  of  appreciation  springs,  we  think,  from 
the  fact  that  so  many  of  the  writers  and  others  who 
mould  public  opinion  are  dwellers  in  the  town. 
No  one  who  has  not  lived  the  year  round  far  from 
the  smoke,  busy  traffic  and  bustle  of  city  life  can  at 
all  realise  that  the  sky  may  be  as  blue  in  January  as 
in  June  ;  while  the  snow,  instead  of  being  the  foul 
mixture  that  is  such  an  unmitigated  nuisance  in  big 
towns,  is  spread  over  everything  in  a  broad  sheet  of 
glittering  whiteness  that  is  almost  dazzling  in  its 
purity,  while  at  other  times,  in  the  clear  atmosphere 
of  the  country,  when  every  twig  of  tree  and  bush  is 


312  OUR  ROCK-GARDEN 

laden  with  hoar-frost  it  is  a  peep  into  veritable 
fairyland. 

In  October  again  we  have  not  only  our  brilliantly 
coloured  fungi  but  the  changing  tints  of  our  Autumn 
foliage  are  in  perfection.  The  variation  of  tint  is 
very  great ;  each  tree,  each  shrub,  each  plant,  has 
its  own  colour.  The  maple  will  be  found  a  mass  of 
tawny-yellow,  the  black  bryony  a  trail  of  bronzed 
purple,  the  herb  Robert  a  clump  of  crimson.  We  do 
not  of  course  imply  that  in  no  two  different  plants 
can  we  find  the  same  tint,  but  that  each  plant 
always  has  its  own  livery.  The  maple  does  not  vary 
to  purple  any  more  than  the  ripening  wheat  does, 
and  any  one  who  has  noticed  the  matter  carefully 
could  name  the  trees  and  bushes  in  a  hedgerow 
half  a  mile  away  by  their  differences  of  Autumn  tint. 
Even  when  the  frost  and  wind  together  have  stripped 
the  foliage  away  the  fruits  ordinarily  remain  undis- 
turbed. 

An  old  writer  declares  that  "  he  who  in  all  things 
eyes  a  Providence  shall  never  lack  a  Providence  to 
eye,"  and  we  may  say  equally  that  he  who  goes  out 
to  seek  interest  and  beauty  in  Nature  shall  never 
fail  of  his  quest.  As  the  year  travels  its  appointed 
road  each  recurring  season  brings  with  it  interest 
and  beauty  of  its  own. 

"  Could  we  but  open  and  intend  our  eyes, 
We  each,  like  Moses,  should  espy 
E'en  in  a  bush  the  radiant  Deity." 


NATURE  STUDY  SIS 

The  commonest  weed  contains  within  itself  enough 
study  for  a  lifetime,  and  is  an  epitome  of  all  the 
laws  of  plant-growth,  an  autograph  from  the  hand 
of  the  Creator,  and  as  perfect  in  its  fitness  for  its 
work,  and  in  its  obedience  to  law,  as  the  mighty 
planets  circling  through  infinity.  All  times,  all 
places,  contain  abundant  evidence  of  Divine  wisdom, 
and  even  the  pebble  at  our  feet,  could  we  but 
unlock  all  the  history  wrapped  up  in  it,  would  carry 
us  back  to  the  childhood  of  the  world,  and  reveal  to 
us  mighty  changes  in  progress  some  few  millions  of 
years  before  the  sons  of  men  sprang  into  existence 
at  all.  Those  who  wander  forth  and  find  nothing 
to  interest  them,  owe  the  loss  not  to  Nature  but  to 
themselves,  while  the  love  of  Nature  deepens  as  time 
goes  on,  and  an  interest  once  developed  in  this 
direction  is  ordinarily  a  possession  that  endures, 
and  which  brightens  the  whole  life. 


INDEX 


ACCIDENTAL  introductions 

to  gardens  

Achillea  cegyptiaca  

,,        aurea 

„       filipendula 

,,        millefolium 

„        P  tar  mica     

„        rupestris      

,,        tomentosa    

„  umbellata  

Achilles  as  doctor  

Aconite  

Aconitum  Anthora  ...  ... 

,,  Napellus  

Adder's-tongue 

Adderwort  

A  donis  autumnalis  

Adonis  blume 

Adonis  flower 

dLthusa  Cynapium  

Agency  of  birds  

"  A  Greene  Forest,"  Map- 
let  59,  64,  120, 

Agrimonia  Eupatorium  . . . 

Agrimony 

Alchemilla 

A  Ichemilla  vulgaris 

Ale-hoof 


PAGE 

48 

264 
264 
264 

263 
263 

264 
264 
264 
144 
2O3 
203 
203 
306 
1 2O 

143 
144 

143 
236 
142 

287 

133 
132 

211 
212 

173 


Alexanders        245 

Alkanet,  common     88 

„        evergreen  ...      33, 89 

Alleluia      74 

All-heal      248 

"All's   Well    That    Ends 
Well/'  extract  from    ...  285 

Almond  butter 146 

Alpine  crowfoot       22 

Alternate-leaved      golden 

saxifrage        162 

Ambrosinus,  "Phytologia" 

of    266 

American  cultivated  black- 
berries     178 

Anaesthetic,  mediaeval     ...  243 
a  Anatomy  of  Melancholy," 


Burton's 

Anchusa  officinalis    .. 
„        sempervirens 
„        tinctoria 
Anemone,  mountain 
„         white 
,,         yellow     .. 
Anemone  Apennina  .. 
„       fulgens 
,,        Hepatica    .. 


129 


269 
..  88 
..  89 
..  90 
70,71 
..  69 

33,70 
..  70 
..  70 

..  72 


ranunculoides  33, 70, 71 


315 


316 


INDEX 


Anemone  Robinsoniana    ...     70 

Angelica    249 

Anserina    170 

Anthelmintic     269 

Antirrhinum  maj us 153 

,,  Orontium     ...  154 

Apple 291 

Aqua  aurea       80 

Aquilegias,  cultivated  ...  96 
Arab  names  in  science  ...  211 

Argentina 170 

Arrowhead        42 

A  rtemesia  A  bsinthium      ...  267 
"  Art  of  Longevity,"  Gay- 
ton's       129 

"  Art  of  Simpling,"  Coles'  244 
Arum,  or  Cuckoo-pint  33,  49 
Asparagus,  hedge  ...  ...  182 

Asperula  odorata      116 

Asphodelus       57 

uAstrologaster"  of  Melton  178 

Athanasia 266 

A  tropa  Belladonna   206 

Autumn  tints     312 

Avens 249 

Aye-green 257 

BABY'S-BELLS   42 

Bachelor's  buttons 57 

Bacon,  extract  from        ...  129 

Balsam,  orange        281 

„        yellow         281 

Baluchistan,  plant-seeking     81 

Baneberry 250 

Barbe  de  Capuchin 209 

Barberry    124 

Bartholomeus,         extract 
from       38,  102 


PAGE 

Barton,  extract  from       ...  195 

Bate,  extract  from 288 

Beaconsfield,       primrose- 
cult 50 

Bee  de  Grue     105 

Bee  orchis        42 

Beer,  its  pros  and  cons  ...  184 
Beggars,  and  their  wiles. . .     64 

Begonia 160 

Belladonna       207 

Bell-bind 135 

Belle  d'un  jour 134 

Bell-flowers      227 

Ben  Jonson,  extract  from    300 
Beverley,  u  History  of  Vir- 
ginia"     197 

Bindweed 133, 190 

Birch 30 

Bird's-bread     152 

Bird's-eye 128 

Bird's-foot  trefoil     155 

Bistort       33,120 

Blackberry        ...     82,175,291 

Black  convolvulus   139 

„      spleen  wort     309 

Blackthorn        290 

Bladder  campion     42 

Blake's    "Compleat    Gar- 
dener''   151 

Blood  geranium       107 

Blood-root        106 

Bloomfield,  extract  from      191 

Bog  pimpernel 35 

Bone-set    213 

Bonney  on  Edelweiss     ...  219 
Boorde's      "  Dyetery     of 

Helthe"...ii9,  130,  145,  288 
Borage       128 


INDEX 


317 


PAGE 

Botanical  finds 141 

"  Botanical  Magazine  "  ...  225 
Bracken,  or  Brake  ...  142,297 
Brickbats,  to  be  shunned  21 
Brighton  Museum,  plant 

collections     19 

"  British     Pastorals,"    ex- 
tract from     96 

Broad  shield-fern    309 

Brooklime 127 

Broom  ...  82,  124,  147,  189 
Browne's  "Pastorals"  ...  300 
Browne's  "  Pseudodoxica 

Epidemica" 109 

Bruisewort        85 

Bryant's  "  Flora  Dietetica"  152 

Bryony,  black       187,  189,  312 

,,        red-berried      187,  261 

„        white 187 

Buck's-horn  plantain  ...  293 
Buckwheat,  climbing  ...  139 
Building  up  our  materials  24,25 
Bulleyn,  extract  from  ...  184 

Burdock    142 

Burning  the  bracken  ...  299 
Burns,  extract  from  83,  149 
Burton's  "  Anatomy  of 

Melancholy"        ...  129,262 
Butler,  extract  from        ...  299 

Butter  and  eggs       156 

Butterbur,  common 46 

„          fragrant...      34,46 

Buttes,  "Table  Talke"  ...  101, 

131,  287 

Buxbaum's  speedwell     ...  128 


CABBAGE  daisy  . . . 
Qalystegia  sepium 


PAGE 

Camerarius,  extract  from  276 

Campanelle       135 

Campanula  glomeraia      ...  227 

„         gracilis 229 

,,          hederacea      ...  227 

„         pulla      229 

,,         pusilla    229 

,,          Raineri 230 

,,  rapuncoloides  227 
,,  rhomboidalis...  230 
,,  rotundtfolia  ...  227 

Campion,  red 276 

„        white       277 

Candytuft 264 

Carrot        238 

"  Castelof  Helth,"  of  Elyot    45 

Catch  weed       202 

Cat-mint    239 

Cat's-ear    142 

Celandine,  common...  33,  108, 
189,  286 

,,          lesser     61 

Celery  seeking 66 

Centaury 144,  269 

Centranthus  ruber     99 

Centum-morbia        167 

Cerastium  gibraltiacum    . . .  236 

Cerberus  myth 204 

Chamomile       92 

Chardon-Marie 42 

Charlock 142 

Chaucer,  extract  from  84,  100, 

271 

Cheddar  pink 233 

Chelidonia        no 

Chickweed       82,  142 

Chicory     208 

Chiron,  doctor ...     .,.     ...  144 


318 


INDEX 


PAGE 


Chrysosplenium         alterni- 

folium     162 

Chrysosplenium        oppositi- 

folium     162 

Church  Calendar,  floral ...     74 
„      House  of  parish...  184 

Cinquefoil 144,  166,  168 

Clare,  extract  from  ...    83,  145 

Clary 214 

Clavaria     310 

Claytonia  perfoliata 224 

,,        sibirica     ...    33,  225 

Cleavers    202 

Climbing  buckwheat    139,  142 

Clove 150 

Clover       142 

Clustered  bell-flower      ...  227 

Clychaur  baban       42 

Codlins  and  Cream 57 

Cogan's       "  Haven        of 

Health"        265,269 

Coleridge,  extract  from  ...  283 
Coles/'Artof  Simpling,"244,3O9 

Collecting,  plant      155 

Columbine 33,  95 

Comarum  palustre     171 

Colt's-foot...  34,43,  142,  173 
Comfrey  ...  33,  212,  213,  254 
Commercial  introduction 

of  plants        81 

u  Compleat       Gardener/' 

Blake     151 

"  Compleat  Herbal," 

Pechey87,  130,  188,  302,304 
"  Complete  Husbandman/' 

Hartlib 186 

Conradus  Herebachius,ex- 

tract  from     45 


PAGE 

Consound 213 

Convallaria  majalis 79 

Convolvulus  arvensis 136 

„         septum    135 

,,          Soldanella     ...  136 

Cool  Tankard 131 

Corago       130 

Cork-bark,  use  of     23 

Corn  blue-blottle     ...  143,  215 

Corn-cockle      274 

Corn  feverfew 92 

Cornflower       143,  215 

Corn  sowthistle       142 

Cornu  cervinum      293 

Cosmopolitan  plants  171,  305 
Cosnett's  "  Footman's 

Directory"    266 

Cotgrave,  extract  from  ...  246 
Cottage-roof  gardens  ...  257 
Cowley,  extract  from  22,  125 
Cowper,  extract  from  18,  52, 

147 

Cow-parsnip     239 

Cowslip      83,  124,  249 

Crab-apple       ...     291 

Crab-grass        166 

Crane's-bills     104 

Creeping  bell-flower       ...  227 

„      Jenny       166 

„       thistle      142 

Crimson  restharrow        . . .  226 

Crowfoot 42 

Crown  Imperial       280 

Cuckoo-pint      49 

Cudbear    160 

Culpepper,  extract  from  88 
Cultivation  of  daffodil  ...  58 
Culverwort  97 


INDEX 


319 


Cumulative  poisons 253 

Curtis,   "  Flora  Londinen- 
sis"of    138,  259 

DAFFODIL 34,  56 

Dahlia,  origin  of  name  ...  160 

Daisy 83,  155 

Dame  d'onze  heures  ...  93 

Dame's  violet 224 

Dandelion  82,  124,  142,  155 
Darwin,  seed  experiments  142 

Dates 214 

Datura  Stramonium 197 

Deadly  nightshade 205 

Dead-nettle  156 

"  Delights  for  Ladies," 

Platt  86,270 

Dekker,  extract  from  . . .  284 

Dent-de-Lion  98 

uDe  proprietatibus  rerum"  38 
tl  Description  of  England," 

Harrison  185 

Destruction  by  ivy 193 

Dewberry 179 

Dianthus  ccesius 233 

,,  deltoides  231 

„  glaucus  235 

„  neglectus  235 

Digitaline 253 

Digitalis  purpurea 252 

Dioscorides,  reference  to  43, 
256,  287 

Doctrine  of  Signatures,  105, 109 
Dodoen's  "  Historic  of 

Plants" 95 

Dog-rose  ...  149,  214,  239,  290 

Dog's  parsley 238 

Dog-violet 238 


PAGE 

Dove's-foot       108 

Dray  ton,     extract     from    85, 
97,  199,  244,  271,  272 

Dusky  crane's-bill    106 

Dwale        205 

"  Dyetery      of      Helthe," 
Boorde  ...  119,  130,  145,  288 

EARLY-CLOSING  flowers  ...  125 

Echmacea  purpurea 294 

Edelweiss 32,218 

Egrimoine 132 

Egyptians  in  England  184, 185 

Eisenhut    203 

Elder 124 

Elyot,  "Castel  of  Helth  "    45 
English  cultivated  black- 
berries    178 

"  English         Housewife's 

Household     Physicke"  214 
"  English          Parnassus," 

Poole     177,  193 

Error  of  underplanting  ...     30 

Euphrasy 249 

Evening  primrose    195 

„        Star    195 

Evergreen  alkanet   ...      33,  90 
Eyebright 248 

FAIR  MAIDS  OF  FEBRUARY    42 
"  Family  Dictionary,"  Sal- 
mon             46 

Feast  of  the  Purification    42 

Febrifuga 275 

Fen-land  flower  culture  ...     58 

Fennel       201,238,286 

Fen-rue      121 

Fern  culture   25,  34,  296,  297 


320 


INDEX 


Fern-seed  myth 

Feverfew 

Field  convolvulus 
Fiore  d'Adono  ... 
Five-finger  grass 


PAGE 

...  299 

248,  275 

.-  137 
...  144 

.  166 


u  Fiue    Hundred    Pointes 
of    Good   Husbandrie"    78, 
114,  169,  183,  208,  247,  298 

Flax 278 

Flax-headed  goldilocks...  277 

Flax-weed 278 

Fleur-de-luce    214 

"  Flora  Anglica  "      235 

"  Flora  Dietetica  " 152 

11  Flora  Historica" 47 

"  Flora  Londinensis  "  138,  259 

Fool's  parsley 236 

Foolish  Hemlocke 238 

"  Footman's      Directory," 

Cosnett 266 

Forget-me-not...  106,  115,  282 
"  Foure   Bookes   of    Hus- 
bandry"      45 

Foxglove   106,  251,  252 

Fragrant  Butterbur...      34,  46 

Frauen  Mantel 42 

Fritillaria  armena    280 

„  Meleagris 279 

„  pudica      279 

,,  recurva    279 

Fritillary    279 

Frog's-grass      63 

Frugis,   "  Vade    Mecum  " 

of    44 

Fuchsia,  why  so  called  ...  160 

Fiinffingerkraut        168 

Fungoid  growths     310 

Furze...  82 


PAGE 
202 

166 

42 

122 

97 


GALIUM  APARINE 

Gallows-grass 

Gants  de  Notre  Dame 
Garden  globe-flowers 
''Garden  of  Beauty" 
u  Garden  of  Pleasant  Flow- 
ers"        195 

Garlic        100,  201 

Gathering  of  May-dew   ...     86 
Gayton,     "  Art     of     Lon- 
gevity"   129 

Gentians    216,  217,  218 

Gentiana  acaulis       217 

„         verna 216 

Gentianella       217 

Geraniums,  wild      104 

Geranium  argenteum    104,  108 
„  nodosum  ...   107,  153 

,,  phceum     106 

„  purpureum       ...  104 

Gerard,  extract  from    50,  70, 

77,  79,  in,    114,   119,   123, 

128,  143,  148,  155,  162,  184, 

198,  202,  2O5,  223 

Germander  speedwell  127,  283 
Germination  of  seeds  ...  55 
Gilliflower,  or  wallflower  150 

Gilt-run-by-ground 173 

Ginny-hen  flower     280 

Gipseywort       142 

Glacier  pink      235 

Glasswort 165 

Globe  flower    33,  122 

Globularia  cordifolia        ...  294 

Goafs-beard     123 

Going  daffying 57 

Golden  feather        275 

„       moss    152 


INDEX 


321 


Golden  saxifrage 
Goldilocks        ...... 

Goose-grass     ...     57, 
Goutweed         ...... 

Gowk-meat       ...... 

Grand  Liseron  ...... 

Grass  of  Parnassus  .  .  . 
Great  Morel      ...... 

"Greene  Forest,"  A 
Green  hellebore 
Grim  the  Collier 
Grip-grass  ......... 

Ground  ivy       ...... 


...  161 
277,  278 

H5,  170 

...  247 
...  76 
...  134 
...  163 
...  206 
150,  262 

...  202 

.  222 


Groundsel 
Guimauve  .  . 


...  202 

172,  183 

...  252 

65,  142 

.  262 


HACQUETIA  EPIPACTIS    ...    73 
"  Hamlet,"  extract   from  284, 

285 

Hard  fern 307 

Hare-bell 83,  227 

Hare's-ear 42,  289 

Hares,  to  catch        200 

Harif 202 

Harrison, "  Description  of 

England"      185 

Hartlib,  "Complete  Hus- 
bandman"      186 

Hart's-tongue 303 

"  Haven  of  Health,"  Cogan  265, 

269 

Hawkweed       no 

Heart's-ease     ...  115,  144,  248 

Heart's-joy       114,  115 

Heather     29 

Hedge-bell       135 


PAGE 

Hedge-mustard  142 

Hedgerife 201 

Heliotrope,  winter 48 

Hellebore 202 

Helmet-flower 203 

Hemlock 241,  263 

Hemp  166 

Henbane 199,  201 

Hepatica,  so  called 72 

Herb-bennet  249 

Herb  Christopher  250 

Herb  gathering  119 

Herb-Gerard  248 

Herb  of  grace 285 

Herb-paris  29 

Herb-Peter  250 

Herb-Robert  ...  33,  104,  312 

Herb-twopence  165 

Herrick,  extract  from  ...  283 

Herzfreydt  114 

Hesperis  matronalis 224 

Hieradum  aurantiaciim  . . .  223 
„  intybaceum  ...  224 
Hippocrates,  reference  to  43 
Hippothce  rhamnoides  ...  292 
"  Historia  Mundi "  of 

Pliny  72,  2ii 

"Historic  of  Plantes"  of 

Dodoens  95 

u  History  of  Virginia "  ...  197 
Hoary-leaved  potentil  ...  171 

Hog's-fennel  239 

Holly- blue  Butterfly  ...  194 

Hollyhock 262 

Home-made  edelweiss  ...  221 
Homer,  extract  from  ...  145 
Home-made  preparations  270 
Honesty  271 


21 


322 


INDEX 


Honeysuckle     190 

Hooded  bindweed 135 

Hook-heal 57 

Hop 180,  201 

Hop  culture,  Scot    185 

Hop-trefoil        ,.   155 

Horehound       82,  257 

Horse-radish    204 

Horse-mint        239 

u  Hortus  Kewensis  "  ...  225 
House-leek  ...  242,  251,  256 
Hudson,  "  Flora  Anglica  "  235 
Hugh  Platt,  "  Delights  for 

Ladies" 86,270 

Hull  or  Hulver 178 

Humours  of  the  body     ...   131 

Hyacinth 34,  59 

Hyacinthus,  legend  of    ...     60 

IBERIS  SEMPERVIRENS     ...  264 

Imp  aliens  fulva 1 64,  2  8 1 

,,        Noli- me  -  iangere  281 
Indigenous  ?  what  is       ...     40 

Ipecacuanha     145^ 

Iris  myth 215 

„   yellow 214 

Ivy      31,  i92 

Ivy-leaved  bell-flower     ...  227 
„        toadflax 157 

JACK  and  Jill     173 

Japan,      introduction      of 

English  plants      81 

Jasmine      211 

KEATS,  extract  from        ...     79 
Kidney  -  leaved    saxifrage  159 


Knit-back 

Knot-grass        

Knotted  crane's-bill 


PAGE 
213 
142 
107 


L'ADONIDE  144 

Lady  fern 301 

Lady's-bedstraw      42 

Lady's-mantle  ...      33,  42,  212 

Lady's-seal        77 

Lady's-smock 42,  73 

Lady's- thistle    42 

Lamb's-lettuce 57 

Landscape  gardening      ...     21 

Lavandula  spica        118 

Lavender 117 

Leek 125 

Lent-lilies 57>  79 

Leontodon        98 

Lesser  celandine      61 

„      snapdragon 154 

Letting  and  hindering    ...  178 

Lily  Convally 79 

Lily  of  the  Valley    ...       33,  79 
Linaria,  ivy-leaved 157 

»        Pale     ••' 156 

Linaria  vulgaris       155 

Linneus,    "  Species    Plan- 

tarum,"  of     163 

Linosyris  vulgaris     277 

Linum  campanulatiun      ...  278 

„     flavum 278 

„      provinciate     278 

„      mscosum 278 

Live  and  let  live      93 

Llawenlys,  herb  of  gladness  129 
Lobelia,  why  so  called    ...  160 

Locken-gowan 122 

Logan-berry      179 


INDEX 


323 


London-pride 33,  159 

Loosestrife,  spotted 167 

,,          tufted   167 

„          wood    167 

,,          yellow 167 

Lord     Beaconsfield     and 

primroses      50 

Lord  of  the  wood    114 

Lovell,  extract  from  101,  117, 
124,  130,  250,  269,  304 

Lunaria      271 

Lupton's  "  Notable  Things" 

199,  200,  245,  288,  306 

Lychnis  diurna 276 

,,      vespertina    277 

Lydgate,  extract  from     ...     37 
Lysimachia  Nummularia . . .  166 

,,          punctata 167 

„  vulgaris 167 

MAGNOLIA,  why  so  called  160 

Maiden  pink  231 

Maitrank 114 

Male  fern 299 

Mallow,  common  26,  136,  261 

„  marsh 261 

„  musk 260 

Malva  moschata  261 

,,  sylvestris 261 

Manchettes  de  la  Vierge...  134 

Maple 312 

Maplet,  extract  from  59,  64, 

no,  120,  135,  146,  150,  256, 
262,  274,  287 

Marguerite  84 

Mariendistal  42 

Marigold 143 

Marjoram 118 


PAGE 

Markham,    extract   from  101, 

214,  257,  288 

Marsh  mallow 261 

„      orchis     259 

„      potentil 171 

„      violet      144 

Marvell,  on  fern-seed      ...  300 

Mason,  extract  from        ...  in 

Matthiolus  and  daisy       ...  53 

Maydew,  gathering 86 

May-lily      79 

Mayweed 142 

Meadow  crane's-bill         ...  108 

,,         crowfoot  ...     33,  100 

,,         pink 231 

,,         rue     121 

„         saxifrage 159 

Mealy  primrose        54 

Medal  plant      271 

Melilotus  officinalis   272 

Melilot,  white 273 

„       yellow 272 

Melton's   "  Astrologaster  "  178 

Mens  sana  in  corpore  sano  210 

Milfoil        183,  263 

Milk  thistle       291 

Milton,  extract  from  53,  83,  285 

Mint 124 

Mirth-causing     herbs     of 

Lovell     130 

Mithridates  Eupator       ...  133 

Mizaldus,  extract  from    ...  188 

Moir,  extract  from 149 

Money-flower 271 

Moneywort       165 

Monks  as  physicians       ...  74 

Monk'shood      42,  202 

Moon-daisy       126 


324 


INDEX 


PAGE 

Morning  glory 134 

Mountain  ash    30 

„         buttercup 61 

„         violet        144 

Mourning  widow      106 

Mouse-ear   Scorpion-grass  42, 

82,  282 

Mullein,  great  ...  189,  254,  255 

Munch  Cappen 203 

"  Muse's      Elysium "      of 

Drayton 199 

Museum  plant-collections  91,92 

NAP-AT-NOON    126 

Narcissus  cyclamineus       ...  59 

Natural  History  Societies  64 

Nature-cult  in  schools     ...  98 

Nature's  rock-gardens     ...  21 

Navetdu  Diable      188 

Nettle 261 

"  New  Herball  "  of  Turner  168 

North  Collection  at  Kew  147 

Northern  Vine 182 

Numidia  Meleagris 280 

Oak  fern    309 

Onions  as  a  ground  crop    66 

Ononis  fruticosa        226 

Opium-taking 275 

Oppilation  of  the  liver    ...  133 
Opposite-leaved     golden 

saxifrage        162 

Orache       142 

Orange  balsam 281 

„       hawkweed 223 

Ornithogalum    umbellatum    92 
Orpine      152,  251 


PAGE 

Osmunda  regalis      ...  297,  304 

Our  Lady's  sleeves 134 

Ovid,  extract  from  ...  143,  203 

Oxalis,  cultivated  species  75 

Ox-eye        ...  33,  86,  126,  275 

Ox-tongue 42 

PAIN  D'OISEAU 152 

Pale  linaria  156 

Pansy  74,  144 

"  Paradisus  "  of  Parkinson  96 
Parkinson,  extract  from,  47, 

54,  89,  96,  120,  139,163,  165, 
182,  238,  247,  293 

Parnassia  palustris  163 

Parsley-piert  57 

Parsnip 238 

Pasque-flower 71 

Paxton,  Sir  Joseph 226 

Pearlwort 142 

Pearly  cudweed  290 

Pechey  "  Compleat  Herbal "  87, 

130,  188,  302,  306 

Pencilled  Geranium        ...  107 

Penny-flower  ...  271 

Pennyroyal  269 

Pentadactylon 168 

Peony  myth  144 

Pepys,  extract  from 86 

"Perfite  Platforme  of  a 

Hoppe  Garden  " 184 

Periwinkle,  larger  93 

„  smaller 93 

Pervinke  94 

Pestilence-wort  47 

Petite  Campanule  229 

Pheasant's-eye 143 

Phillips,"  Flora  Historica"  47 


INDEX 


325 


PAGE 

Pigeon's- grass 166 

Pilewort        34,61,248 

Pin-centre  primroses       ...     52 

Pink,  Cheddar 233 

„     glacier     235 

„     maiden    231 

PJantago  Coronopus 293 

Plantain     166 

Plaster  clover 273 

Platt,"  Delights  for  Ladies  "   86 
Pliny,  extract  from...     72,  no 

Polypody 307 

Poole,  "  English  Parnassus" 

177,  193 
Pomatum 292 

Poppy      143 

Popular  plant-names       ...  42 

Porret        257 

Portland  arrowroot 49 

Potentilla  amerina    170 

„        argentea    171 

,,         atrosanguinea   ...  172 

„        Comarum 171 

„         crocea        172 

„         Fragariastrum ...  171 
maculata  . 


„         nivalis 
„        reptans 

Tormentilla 


,.  172 

,.  172 

..  168 

..  169 

Prickly  shield-fern 309 

Primprint 57 

Primrose,  mealy       54 

„         peerless 57 

Primroses 32,  50 

Primula  farinosa       54 

„      frondosa      54 

Prince's-feather        170 

Prizes,  adjudication  of    ...  155 


PAGE 

Proserpine,  flower  of  ...  57 
Protection  of  plants  ...  220 
"  Pseudodoxica  Epidemica," 

Browne 109 

"Pun-provoking    thyme"  118 

Purple  comfrey        213 

Pyrus  japonica 72 

QUARTZ  not  suitable ,     19 

"  Quest   of    Cynthia,"   ex- 
tract from     244 

Quick-in-hand 282 

Quintefeuille     168 

RAGWORT 289,  295 

u  Raisins  of  the  Sunne"...  214 
Ranunculus  amplexicaule...  61 
,,  montanus  ...  61 

li  Recollections  of  a  Happy 

Life,"  North 147 

Red  valerian  33?  99 

Rest-harrow  226 

Rhodia  radix  251 

Rib-grass 166 

Ribwort  142 

Rock  stonecrop  152 

Rosebay  142 

Rose-centre  primroses  ...  52 

Rosemary 283 

Rose-root 152,  251 

Rothbrauner  Kranichsch- 

nabel  106 

Royal  fern 304 

Rubus  ccesius  179 

,,    fruticosus        176 

„  saxatilis 180 

Rue  249,  284,  285 

Rue-leaved  saxifrage  ...  166 


326 


INDEX 


Ruins,  ivy-clad 

Ruprechtskraut 
Ruskin,  extract  from 


PAGE 

...  193 
...  105 
56,  234 


SAFFRON-CROCUS      211 

Saint  Patrick's  Cabbage  ...   160 

Sallow-thorn     292 

Salmon,  extract  from       ...     46 

Salsify        124 

Samphire 124,  238 

Sarracenia  piirpiirea 1 64 

Saxifraga  aizoides     161 

,,         Cytnbalaria      ...  161 
„        Elizabethece      ...     73 

„        granulata 159 

„         oppositifolia      ...   158 

„        Rhei 161 

„         Tombeanensis  ...   161 

,,         Wallacei 161 

Saxifrages,  British    157 

Scale  fern 308 

Scilly  Isles,  flower  culture    58 

Scorpion-grass 166 

Scot,  on  hop  culture        ...  185 
Scott,  extract  from  52,  149,  302 

Sea  buckthorn 291 

„    convolvulus        136 

„    pink    16 

Sedum  acre        152 

„      album     153 

„      Rhodiola        152 

„      rupestre 152 

,,      Telephium      152 

Seedling  forms 55 

Sempervivum  arachnoideum  257 
„  tectorum      ...  256 

Senecio  aurantiacum 295 

„      Doronicum    295 


Sentiment  in  plant-names  115 

Serpentaria  120,  167 

Shakespeare,  extract  from  52, 
83,  143,  191,  203,  300 
Shenstone,  extract  from  ...  117 
"  Shepherd's  Calendar  "  of 

Spenser 57 

Shepherd's-purse  42,  82,  142 
Shining-leaved  crane's-bill  108 

Sigillum  Salomonis 77 

Silver-leaved  crane's-bill  108 

Silver  platter  271 

Silverweed  170 

"  Simpling,  Art  of,"  extract 

from  244 

Small  convolvulus  136 

Smyrnium  Olusatrum  ...  245 
Snails,  a  garden  pest  ...  194 

Snake's-head  42,  280 

Snake-weed  120 

Snapdragon  149,  153 

„  lesser  154 

Sneezewort  248,  263 

Snowdrop 34,  40,  214 

Society  of  St.  George  ...  234 

Soil,  question  of  29 

Soldanella 221 

Soldanella  alpina  221 

Solomon's-seal 33,  76 

Solsequium  126 

Sowthistle 142 

Spearplume  thistle  ...  142,  290 
u  Species  Plantarum  "  of 

Linneus 163,  225 

Spenser,  extract  from  52,  57, 

84,  97,  103,  147 
Spircza  tomentosa       153 

Spotted  loosestrife 167 


INDEX 


327 


PAGE 

Spotted  orchis 260 

Spring,   our  starting-point     37 

Squinancywort 250 

Starch  from  wild  arum   ...     50 

Star  of  Bethlehem 92 

Stitchwort 78 

Stone  bramble 150 

Stonecrop 149,  151,  251 

Stramonium      197 

Strawberry        ...  102,  144,  291 
Strawberry-leaved  tormentil  171 

Stray-berry        102 

Strowing  herbes       ...  118,  264 

Stubwort    76 

Stupidity,  remedy  for      ...   119 

Succory,  or  chicory 208 

Sunflower 126 

Sweetbriar        82 

Sweet  Springtide     38 

Sweet  violet      144 

Swiss  wild  flowers 146 

Sword-flag 214 

Symphytum  officinale 212 

,,         peregrinum    ...  213 
,,          tuber osum      ...  213 

"  TABLE  TALKE,"  Buttes,  101, 
131,  287 

Tansy 257,  264 

Tennyson,  extract  from  ...  59 

Thalictrum  flavuni  121 

"  Theatrum  Botanicum," 

Parkinson,  120,  139,  163,  238 
Thistles  in  Australia  ...  82 
Thomson,  extract  from  ...  145 

Thorn  apple  196 

"Thousand  Notable 

Things,"  Lupton 199 


Thorowax 290 

Thrift 16 

Throatwort       106 

Thyme-leaved  Sandwort  142 

Timothy  grass 160 

Tine 261 

Tine-tare 57 

Toadflax 155 

Toadstools,  or  fungi        ...  310 
"  Toilet  of  Flora,"  extract 

from       189 

Tormentil 169 

Touch-me-not 282 

Town  flowers 159 

Tragopogon  pratense 124 

„         porrifolius     ...  125 
Tree     Primrose    of    Vir- 
ginia         195 

,,     roots  as  material     ...  25 

Troll-flower      122 

Trollius  europceus      122 

Tuberous  comfrey 213 

Tulip 260 

Turner,  "New  Herball"...  168 

Tusser,  extract  from,  78,  114, 

169,  177,  181,  183,  208,  216, 
247,  264,  298,  304 
"  Tusser     redivivus "     of 

Hilman 261 

Tussilago  Far  far  a     43 

Tutsan       249 

Twice- writhen 120 

Twopenny-grass       165 

UDALL,  extract  from       ...  242 

Under-planting,  a  mistake  30 
Unexpected  appearance  of 

plants     138,  141 


328 


INDEX 


United  States,  introduced 

plants     82 

Uvedale  Price,  extract  from    21 

"  VADE  MECUM  "  of  Frugis  44 
Valerian,  red  ...  33,  99,  149 

Variation  to  white 104 

Venner's  "  Via  recta,"  103, 131, 

150 

Verbascum  phcenicium      ...  255 

Veronica  amethystina       ...  127 

,,        aphylla       127 

„        corymbosa 127 

,,        gentianoides       ...  127 

„        latifolia      127 

,,        sibirica       127 

,,        spicata        127 

,,        taurica        127 

"  Vertues  "  of  plants       ...  44 

Vervain     no 

"Via  recta,"  Venner,  103,  131, 

150 
Vinca  major      93 

„  minor  93 

Viola  lutea  147 

,,  odorata  144 

Violette  des  sorciers  ...  94 

Violets  144 

Viper's-bugloss  ...  149,  201 
Virgin  Mary,  plants  of,  42, 73, 77 
Vitality  of  seeds  56 


WALDMEISTER  ...     . 
Wallflower       ...     ., 

Wall-pepper     

Wall-rue 

Wasser  Schwertlilie 
Water-buttercup 


...  114 

32,  149 
...  151 

309 
215 

63 


"  Water  for  the  Plague  "       46 

Water-sage       215 

Whitehall,  botanising  in...   141 

White  heather 34 

White  satin-plant    271 

White  stonecrop     153 

Whitlow-grass 166 

Willowherb      82,  142 

Wilson,  extract  from      ...  147 

Windflower      34,  69 

Winter  heliotrope   48 

"Winter's  Tale,"  extract 

from      284 

Wisbeach,  flower  culture      58 

Witches  Gowan       122 

Withweede       135 

Withy-bind       135 

Wolf's-bane      32,  203 

Woodbine        190 

Wood  buttercup      63 

Wood  loosestrife     167 

Woodrowell     116 

Woodsorrel      75 

Woodsour 76 

Wordsworth,  extract  from,  57, 

61,83 

Wormwood     ...    201,  248,  267 

Wound  wort      248 

Wrestharrow    226 

YAM 190 

Yarrow,  or  milfoil  ...  144,  263 

Yellow  balsam 281 

„       iris        ...     16,  164,  214 

„       loosestrife    167 

,,       monk'shood        ...  203 
,,       mountain  saxifrage  161 


Yellow  violet 


147 


UNWIN  BROTHERS,  LIMITED,  THE  GRESHAM  PRESS,  WOKING  AND  LONDON. 


